SPRING
MEDITATION #1
This
is a special time of year in the Haliburton Highlands. It’s about planting seeds, preparing for the
future, doing the work to get ready for the riches to come. It’s about tender moments taking root and
soon to flourish in some unpredictable way.
It’s about pruning and it’s about annoying insects. It’s about taking time, even when all is a
mess, to listen to the birds and revel in the fresh shoots discovered under raked
leaves.
Opening
the cottage, opening the gardens, opening our hearts to our natural world.
Buying
marshmallows, buying lounge chairs, buying into a different rhythm.
Racing
to get here, racing to get things done, racing to slow down.
Ahhhh!
Awww!
Wow.
What are we doing?
What
are we
Doing?!
Just
breathe.
Just
breathe.
Breathe.
That’s
why we’re here.
We
know that with our hands in the earth and our feet in the water, all is well.
With
the family close by and fresh local food sprouting, all is well.
With
our worst disasters becoming our best stories, all is well.
We
love spring; we are excited by spring because even though the pipes have to be
repaired AGAIN and the ant traps have to be set AGAIN and the sheets have to be
washed AGAIN, there’s a whole summer of intimate moments that aren’t planned for
but will just happen, intimate moments that will bond us deeply with the incredible
gift of life itself. Those moments when
the shoulders drop, when the jaw slackens, when the purple sunset swims around
us, are worth every hardship that set them up.
The taxes, the lineups, the ‘are we there yet’s are tests to see if we
have to get our way to be happy. Do we? Have to get our way?
Or
do we have to BE? Be music, be chaos, be
loons.
Be
a lover, be a friend, be astonished.
The
wonder of it all.
The
wonder
Of
It
ALL!
SPRING
MEDITATION #2
Delicately Opening
SPRING
MEDITATION #3
I
love that my four year-old grandson, Samuel, soon after taking his shoes off at
the door, said: Nana, let’s play music!
Over the years I’ve collected a variety of instruments, including egg
shakers, ching cymbals, click sticks, djembe drums, cow bells, various whistles,
digeridoos, stringed instruments, and did I say LOUD whistles?
Marching
band is a regular activity here.
Food, shelter, warmth, reproduction, air and sleep, are
obvious on the list of survival essentials, but there’s one more I believe that
belongs: music. Remember the scene in the
movie Shawshank Redemption when Andy takes over the library and plays classical
music over the speakers and the prison inmates relax and feel euphorically
human again? Or when TV’s mobster
kingpin, Tony Soprano, tells his depressed teenage son to find solace in music?
Or when the Titanic goes down and the dedicated
musicians play beautifully to the end?
Music is more than entertainment; it is therapeutic. It
guides us through challenges, cares for us, and supports us as we move on. I
can be struggling with a decision and a song will come on with the exact advice
I need. Or I can be jogging and the
rhythm will help me push through the tedium and soreness. Or I can be missing
my dad then be transported back with him when a Count Basie piece plays. Music is a midwife
to our inner world, helping us navigate through invisible, internal
mazes and then bringing us home.
Being
aware of this power, I can use music as a tool to help rebalance. If I’m tired, I can pick something energizing
or if I’m too wound up, I can choose something grounding. I can use music to take me into the centre of
my grief, and then use it to bring me back out. I can also use it as a
distraction. Music helps me to be the creator of my experiences and not the
victim of them.
Is there even one culture that doesn’t incorporate music into
their identity? National gatherings,
holiday celebrations, family ceremonies or private moments: music is always
somewhere in the mix.
I’ve
written this column through the years using it as a platform to try and make
sense of life. I’ve explored religions, philosophies, arts, and healing
therapies trying to understand why we humans have such a difficult time loving
each other. But having more answers
hasn’t equalled having more joy.
Then
it occurred to me: I can try to make sense of this world or I can make music.
Playing,
in the moment, is an act of love.
Hearts
beating, lungs pumping: whether we know it or not, we are all musicians
harmonizing in our own way with the One Song.
“Samuel, let’s play music!”
The Highlands Chamber Orchestra’s next concert is May 28th at
the Northern Lights Performing Arts Pavilion.
Mamma Mia - The Sing-Along, a Highlands Summer
Festival Gala Fundraiser, is May 21 at Pinestone
