Last Friday night my friend Bill treated me to a concert for my birthday (early). I happen to adore Chris Botti, and for any of you who aren't familiar with him, click his name and listen to a tune or two - he is an exquisite trumpeter, and here he was, coming to this intimate little venue practically in my neighborhood!
Cain Park has a covered stage and a grassy area, and we opted for the lawn tickets. I'd pulled together a rather wonderful picnic (if I do say so myself), as I love dining outdoors, and it was a gorgeous evening. We settled in on the blanket and started noshing away, catching up on each others' lives and anticipating a lovely concert.
It went so far beyond lovely that I'm struggling to find words to capture the magic of the evening. First, of course, is simply the pleasure of hearing LIVE music that heretofore we'd only heard recorded. No matter how sophisticated equipment becomes, nothing can compare with being in the presence of the musician. There is an ineffable Presence that comes through when you are actually, well, present, that simply isn't there when you're not there. That sounds obvious, but if you're like me, and you listen to a lot of recorded music, and enjoy that, and are grateful to live in a time of recorded music (ah! the freedom to listen to music that YOU choose when you choose it is a gift we modern folk often take for granted), it comes as a revelation each and every time that live music has MORE. You get to feel the energy as it's being created; it's a birth of sorts.
Next was the delight of Chris' introductions of the musicians he'd gathered for this concert; he introduced them at different times and highlighted their astonishing abilities in ways that were generous and humorous and said, quite clearly, that he recognized how fortunate he was to have this ensemble. I won't take time here to name each one, as that deserves a lot of space on its own.
Then he spotted a boy in the front row and asked if he played an instrument; "Yes, cello." "Do you practice every day?" I couldn't hear the reply, but it must have been no, because laughter erupted. This boy was 9, and toward the end of the evening, Chris invited him up on stage to help play a piece; do you think that little boy will ever forget that? Chris said that when he was 11 or 12 he heard Miles Davis and Herbie Hancock play "My Funny Valentine" for the first time, and within a few notes, knew he wanted to be a trumpeter. What a journey: this last January he was asked to play trumpet at the White House for the Obamas, the Clintons and the Carters, and got to play that same song with Herbie Hancock and Barbara Streisand.
What was extra fun for me is watching the energy. Everybody senses energy, often a lot more than we realize, and I also see it. First I noticed Bill's energy; he'd been relaxing ever since we got there, and now it stayed relaxed and yet the music energized him. His colors got stronger and more vibrant, yet in a totally relaxed way. I looked around and the colors all around got more beautiful. . .
And on stage! Wow, these folks really know that to make great music requires head and heart. The vibrant cords that I could see zipping and zooming between their hearts was quite astonishing, and their auras swam in beauty. . .
Even the grass all around us lit up and got more vibrant (I swear I was not on psychedelics!) and the fireflies seemed to pulse with the rhythm of whatever music was being played, whether hot jazz or quiet romantic melody.
The colors all around us were fantastic, and somehow coherent, not random or jumpy or anything but, well, wonderfully orchestrated. I leaned into Bill and felt the magic of the aliveness of it all, and how everyone there was unique and individual, and yet all were participating in this creation, we listeners in our own way, too.
After, Chris generously gave autographs and allowed pics with him, and I acted like the total adolescent I can be at times, and got both. Bill was not just willing; he encouraged me. I thanked him, and Chris, and felt like this birthday gift was a gift I would be recognizing in deeper and deeper ways for a long time to come. For now, I'll wrap up with these understandings:
When we create anything with skill and heart and put ourselves into it passionately, we unleash something magnificent into the world and energy is released that is loving and healing and joyous.
And we don't have to be world-renowned musicians to do that: everything counts. Make a sandwich passionately with as much skill and heart as you can muster, and that sandwich, I promise you, will be a better sandwich, an enhanced sandwich if you will. And you will enjoy the time it takes to make it! Try that with everything you do, and see what happens.
After the concert, I could see plainly that Chris was tired - for pete's sake, he'd just flown in from Australia and then done this concert, and stuck around for autographs and pictures. I couldn't understand how he was even functioning, much less doing it with grace and goodwill. Then I remembered a quote by Brother David Steindl-Rast, which goes something like "Sometimes the antidote to exhaustion isn't rest; sometimes it's wholeheartedness." Chris and his ensemble did what they did wholeheartedly, and now I'm inviting you and me to do the same with everything we do. Let's see what we unleash.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
What's Knitting Got To Do With It?
For those of you who read my recent mini-blog about World Wide Knit In Public Day, you may be asking yourself what the heck knitting, in public or private, has to do with being "on the path." Knitting may have gotten more glamorous in recent years, what with Julia Roberts and David Arquette and all sorts of other famous types taking it up, but still it's pretty mundane, isn't it? What's it got to do with being on a conscious spiritual path? Lovely question.
Well, one of the ways to define meditation is as a time of focus, of letting the chatter of the world (and our own minds) drop aside and putting our attention on ONE thing. This process fosters a sense of calm and relaxation, and can be found in any repetitive activity. Runners, people kneading dough, folks chanting,planing wood, or playing the same riff over and over, often report getting into a mind/heart space in which there's an experience of timelessness, of being one with everything, of inner peace. . .and so do many knitters, at least until you drop a stitch and swear. Truly, though, one of the reasons new knitters find themselves becoming a little obsessive about knitting, taking it to work to do at lunchtime, pulling out the knitting when watching evening t.v., etc., is because it IS calming and relaxing, which is pretty cool!
Also, it seems to me that mundane and spiritual are not opposites, and it's the intention we bring to any mundane activity or event that imbues it with spirit. Haven't you ever been grumbling along through an activity, say mowing your lawn, and suddenly you notice a neighbor mowing his lawn, singing away, big smile on his face? And if you quiz him on what he's so bloody happy about, he says something startling - and possibly annoying - like "I'm just so glad to be able to do this for my family," or "this reminds me of my dad doing this every Saturday, and that makes me smile," or even "I used to grumble, but since my heart attack I just feel so grateful to be up and about. . ." Same activity, but a totally different perspective.
Knitting has changed a lot in the last 60 or 70 years, at least in this part of the world. What I mean is that just that recently, most families still knit their own socks and sweaters and even swimming apparel, if you can believe it, which is why they took such great care of them and mended holes. Nowadays for many of us, it's completely optional. Not being something you HAVE to do if you want to be warmly clothed makes it easier to have a more relaxed take on the activity; certainly no one in my household will go sockless if I stop knitting! So it's easier than ever to see it as a blessing, a pleasure, a lovely way to express your creativity.
But from journals and other first person accounts I've read, down through the ages when women and their men and children were all involved in the spinning, weaving and knitting of clothes, many DID find a spiritual element to it. It could be the sense of service to others (which was certainly beefed up during both World Wars when all at home were exhorted to knit for the boys!) It could be the opportunity to express one's creativity in the choices of color and pattern -- anything that enables us to express our inner creative fire gets us in touch with our inner spirit. And then it's back to the calming influence of a repetitive activity.
I'm certainly not the first to write about the potentially spiritual side of knitting. THE KNITTING SUTRA by Susan Lydon, ZEN AND THE ART OF KNITTING by Bernadette Murphy, and THE KNITTING WAY; A GUIDE TO SPIRITUAL SELF-DISCOVERY by Skolnik and MacDaniels are just a few of the books that have come out on this subject in recent years.
Lest this make you run out and get some needles and yarn so you can become a better person, hold on! I believe that knitting is, more than anything, supposed to be a pleasure. OK, maybe not every minute, not when you discover you dropped a stitch 8 inches up and have to unknit that whole section, but over all it is meant to be something you are GLAD to be doing. My daughter asked me to teach her to knit for the first time around 10 years of age, and within a day or two she was so frustrated and angry I said "step away from the pointy things!" I had happily learned to knit at age 8, but she has always been much more active than I was, riding horseback, training dogs, hiking and camping. She asked me again at other times, with similar results. It just wasn't for her. And that was fine.
Then one day she asked me, I showed her, and it took! Within months she was learning all kinds of techniques and patterns it took me years to explore, and had found many Internet sites that she enjoys and finds useful, such as Ravelry. Today, she is a superb knitter and belongs to a knitting group that meets regularly, as well as knitting at home and when she's out and about.
Most any activity can prove spiritual: it can ground you, enliven you, relax you, help you feel at home and one with everyone and everything. . . especially if that's your intent.
And Guidance is always reminding me, a key to being truly spiritual is to lighten up and have fun.
See you next week!
PS I love your comments; THANKS!
Well, one of the ways to define meditation is as a time of focus, of letting the chatter of the world (and our own minds) drop aside and putting our attention on ONE thing. This process fosters a sense of calm and relaxation, and can be found in any repetitive activity. Runners, people kneading dough, folks chanting,planing wood, or playing the same riff over and over, often report getting into a mind/heart space in which there's an experience of timelessness, of being one with everything, of inner peace. . .and so do many knitters, at least until you drop a stitch and swear. Truly, though, one of the reasons new knitters find themselves becoming a little obsessive about knitting, taking it to work to do at lunchtime, pulling out the knitting when watching evening t.v., etc., is because it IS calming and relaxing, which is pretty cool!
Also, it seems to me that mundane and spiritual are not opposites, and it's the intention we bring to any mundane activity or event that imbues it with spirit. Haven't you ever been grumbling along through an activity, say mowing your lawn, and suddenly you notice a neighbor mowing his lawn, singing away, big smile on his face? And if you quiz him on what he's so bloody happy about, he says something startling - and possibly annoying - like "I'm just so glad to be able to do this for my family," or "this reminds me of my dad doing this every Saturday, and that makes me smile," or even "I used to grumble, but since my heart attack I just feel so grateful to be up and about. . ." Same activity, but a totally different perspective.
Knitting has changed a lot in the last 60 or 70 years, at least in this part of the world. What I mean is that just that recently, most families still knit their own socks and sweaters and even swimming apparel, if you can believe it, which is why they took such great care of them and mended holes. Nowadays for many of us, it's completely optional. Not being something you HAVE to do if you want to be warmly clothed makes it easier to have a more relaxed take on the activity; certainly no one in my household will go sockless if I stop knitting! So it's easier than ever to see it as a blessing, a pleasure, a lovely way to express your creativity.
But from journals and other first person accounts I've read, down through the ages when women and their men and children were all involved in the spinning, weaving and knitting of clothes, many DID find a spiritual element to it. It could be the sense of service to others (which was certainly beefed up during both World Wars when all at home were exhorted to knit for the boys!) It could be the opportunity to express one's creativity in the choices of color and pattern -- anything that enables us to express our inner creative fire gets us in touch with our inner spirit. And then it's back to the calming influence of a repetitive activity.
I'm certainly not the first to write about the potentially spiritual side of knitting. THE KNITTING SUTRA by Susan Lydon, ZEN AND THE ART OF KNITTING by Bernadette Murphy, and THE KNITTING WAY; A GUIDE TO SPIRITUAL SELF-DISCOVERY by Skolnik and MacDaniels are just a few of the books that have come out on this subject in recent years.
Lest this make you run out and get some needles and yarn so you can become a better person, hold on! I believe that knitting is, more than anything, supposed to be a pleasure. OK, maybe not every minute, not when you discover you dropped a stitch 8 inches up and have to unknit that whole section, but over all it is meant to be something you are GLAD to be doing. My daughter asked me to teach her to knit for the first time around 10 years of age, and within a day or two she was so frustrated and angry I said "step away from the pointy things!" I had happily learned to knit at age 8, but she has always been much more active than I was, riding horseback, training dogs, hiking and camping. She asked me again at other times, with similar results. It just wasn't for her. And that was fine.
Then one day she asked me, I showed her, and it took! Within months she was learning all kinds of techniques and patterns it took me years to explore, and had found many Internet sites that she enjoys and finds useful, such as Ravelry. Today, she is a superb knitter and belongs to a knitting group that meets regularly, as well as knitting at home and when she's out and about.
Most any activity can prove spiritual: it can ground you, enliven you, relax you, help you feel at home and one with everyone and everything. . . especially if that's your intent.
And Guidance is always reminding me, a key to being truly spiritual is to lighten up and have fun.
See you next week!
PS I love your comments; THANKS!
Friday, June 10, 2011
Knitting in Public
Friends, I haven't waited a whole week to do my next posting, but this just has to get out there for anyone who doesn't already know about this:
this Saturday, June 11, 2011, is Worldwide Knit In Public Day!!!
Ok, I'll admit this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but even non-knitters may be curious about this 6th annual international event. It was started in 2005 by Daniele Landes of the United States, and she says that the first year there were about 20 events worldwide, although now it numbers in the hundreds. To find a "kip" (that's "knit in public") event near you, just click on Knit in Public Day. You will be amazed at the kips available not only all over the U.S. but also in Iceland, Estonia, Australia, Portugal, Scotland, Italy, Brazil, Italy, Greece, France and Monaco. . .it goes on and on. The events vary widely, and you are invited to host a kip, so if you like the idea, remember that this is held the second Saturday of each June, and plan something wild. . .
I'll be here with my regular blog post (can it really be deemed "regular" when I'm just starting?) next week. Til then, happy knitting, gardening, whatever suits your fancy. Isn't life just amazing?
this Saturday, June 11, 2011, is Worldwide Knit In Public Day!!!
Ok, I'll admit this won't be everyone's cup of tea, but even non-knitters may be curious about this 6th annual international event. It was started in 2005 by Daniele Landes of the United States, and she says that the first year there were about 20 events worldwide, although now it numbers in the hundreds. To find a "kip" (that's "knit in public") event near you, just click on Knit in Public Day. You will be amazed at the kips available not only all over the U.S. but also in Iceland, Estonia, Australia, Portugal, Scotland, Italy, Brazil, Italy, Greece, France and Monaco. . .it goes on and on. The events vary widely, and you are invited to host a kip, so if you like the idea, remember that this is held the second Saturday of each June, and plan something wild. . .
I'll be here with my regular blog post (can it really be deemed "regular" when I'm just starting?) next week. Til then, happy knitting, gardening, whatever suits your fancy. Isn't life just amazing?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Ready, set, go. . .
Hallo! Whomever you are, I'm glad you're here. This is new for me.
What do I mean by "Notes on the Path"? Over the years I've come to think of anyone making efforts to live a conscious life, a life of intention, as being "on the path." Many of us wander around letting life just happen to us until something convinces us we have a hand in the direction our lives take. This realization brings a sort of awesome joy, as well as a lot of confusion about what it all means. Also, in my case, helpless laughter at the often bumbling way I try to get a handle on what parts of my life I have control over, and what parts are outside my purview. I often get things exactly backwards, trying to MAKE things happen that aren't any of my business while neglecting to pick up the reins of things that are totally mine. Argh! But I'm given wonderful guidance from a variety of sources (whether or not I'm willing to listen) and would love to share those "notes" with others, as we help each other wend our way on this miraculous journey we call life.
I'm starting this blog with excitement and a certain amount of trepidation. My daughter introduces me to new folks as "the last great mind of the 16th century" with reason; I spend ridiculous amounts of time spinning amorphous fibers into yarn; I get excited about a strain of yeast turning a blob of dough into a beautiful loaf in record time (sometime remind me to tell you about the Mutant Yeast); I am hopelessly and completely in love with paper and pens and actual books. I meditate a lot, teach meditation, and play with energy such as Earth Energy and Reiki to enhance my life and the lives of clients around the globe.
My relationship with the computer is becoming amicable at this point, but that's been a long time coming. (It's also involved a huge amount of patience from computer savvy people, most notably said darling daughter). I'm not completely dim; I know what amazing tools computers and the Internet are. So I find myself at least visiting the 21st century for moments here and there, fascinated, awed, often flustered, and very grateful. Little by little I've ventured into the blogosphere and found camaraderie in the thoughts, feelings and perceptions of others.
Still, when guidance started suggesting that I begin a blog, I shut down. I would quickly change the subject, and at times stick my fingers in my ears and hum, "I can't hear you!" They insisted that my thoughts and feelings and perceptions about the guidance I'm given, which I usually only foist on family, friends, and clients, might be of interest and spark enlivening conversations. They pointed out that I had found that on other people's blogs. Still I resisted.
This resistance has gone on a long time. I generally listen to guidance pretty quickly, but on this subject I've been amazingly stubborn. Why? Because I'm afraid people might disagree? You might not like me? You may think my ideas are dumb? Maybe a teensy, but I recognize that as part of life. In fact, I revel in the fact that we are individual and therefore have unique opinions and ways of looking at the world.
I think the real issue is that, around the computer, I often feel DUMB. I don't like feeling dumb. So instead of buckling down and learning how to make friends with it, I've been avoiding. Anybody else out there do that with things you feel less than competent around?
But I'm finally taking some baby steps into this amazing future we're careening into, to share some of the guidance that comes to me, and some of the experiences I have. And the first bit of guidance is always, one way or another, to lighten up. Man oh man, can I take myself seriously! I'll bet YOU never do that. ( It can get a little annoying when I hear certain guides, notably the Three Grandmothers, guffawing over my self-imposed leaden attitude. I can't even get into a good sulk without hearing them snicker good-naturedly. )
Anyway, for a baby step, this is getting pretty long-winded. Thanks for joining the party. See you next week.
What do I mean by "Notes on the Path"? Over the years I've come to think of anyone making efforts to live a conscious life, a life of intention, as being "on the path." Many of us wander around letting life just happen to us until something convinces us we have a hand in the direction our lives take. This realization brings a sort of awesome joy, as well as a lot of confusion about what it all means. Also, in my case, helpless laughter at the often bumbling way I try to get a handle on what parts of my life I have control over, and what parts are outside my purview. I often get things exactly backwards, trying to MAKE things happen that aren't any of my business while neglecting to pick up the reins of things that are totally mine. Argh! But I'm given wonderful guidance from a variety of sources (whether or not I'm willing to listen) and would love to share those "notes" with others, as we help each other wend our way on this miraculous journey we call life.
I'm starting this blog with excitement and a certain amount of trepidation. My daughter introduces me to new folks as "the last great mind of the 16th century" with reason; I spend ridiculous amounts of time spinning amorphous fibers into yarn; I get excited about a strain of yeast turning a blob of dough into a beautiful loaf in record time (sometime remind me to tell you about the Mutant Yeast); I am hopelessly and completely in love with paper and pens and actual books. I meditate a lot, teach meditation, and play with energy such as Earth Energy and Reiki to enhance my life and the lives of clients around the globe.
My relationship with the computer is becoming amicable at this point, but that's been a long time coming. (It's also involved a huge amount of patience from computer savvy people, most notably said darling daughter). I'm not completely dim; I know what amazing tools computers and the Internet are. So I find myself at least visiting the 21st century for moments here and there, fascinated, awed, often flustered, and very grateful. Little by little I've ventured into the blogosphere and found camaraderie in the thoughts, feelings and perceptions of others.
Still, when guidance started suggesting that I begin a blog, I shut down. I would quickly change the subject, and at times stick my fingers in my ears and hum, "I can't hear you!" They insisted that my thoughts and feelings and perceptions about the guidance I'm given, which I usually only foist on family, friends, and clients, might be of interest and spark enlivening conversations. They pointed out that I had found that on other people's blogs. Still I resisted.
This resistance has gone on a long time. I generally listen to guidance pretty quickly, but on this subject I've been amazingly stubborn. Why? Because I'm afraid people might disagree? You might not like me? You may think my ideas are dumb? Maybe a teensy, but I recognize that as part of life. In fact, I revel in the fact that we are individual and therefore have unique opinions and ways of looking at the world.
I think the real issue is that, around the computer, I often feel DUMB. I don't like feeling dumb. So instead of buckling down and learning how to make friends with it, I've been avoiding. Anybody else out there do that with things you feel less than competent around?
But I'm finally taking some baby steps into this amazing future we're careening into, to share some of the guidance that comes to me, and some of the experiences I have. And the first bit of guidance is always, one way or another, to lighten up. Man oh man, can I take myself seriously! I'll bet YOU never do that. ( It can get a little annoying when I hear certain guides, notably the Three Grandmothers, guffawing over my self-imposed leaden attitude. I can't even get into a good sulk without hearing them snicker good-naturedly. )
Anyway, for a baby step, this is getting pretty long-winded. Thanks for joining the party. See you next week.
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