The Waiting Place

As a composer, I’m a huge fan of the grand pause – when all the instruments stop, and there’s a anywhere from a short to an uncomfortably long silence.   In the midst of a musical composition, the ultimate contrast between sound and silence is breathtaking, attention-grabbing, the “yin” moment to the music’s “yang.”  The silence is comfortable, a place to gather oneself.   I have come to see, however, that in moments of greatest transition in life – not so much going from here to there as transforming from what was to what is – the grand pauses are almost unbearable.  Those moments when one is forced by circumstances, health, or simply not knowing where one’s attentions should be focused, waiting can be terrifying.  What if the circumstances never pass?  What if I never get over the flu (these past few weeks that is a question I have asked myself many times)?  Which, out of all the projects I’m launching and working toward, should have my attention right NOW?  Working has always been my answer to anxiety – if you’re working hard you don’t have time to wonder what else you might be doing, or thinking about, or planning.

In the waiting place, anxiety is a constant companion.  Without the illusion of control there is nothing to hold back the wondering, the second-guessing, the insecurity about everything that is or might be.  This is not waiting to avoid moving forward, to quote a cliche I am more like a shark who needs to move forward constantly to stay alive.  This is more about forced immobility, silence, pause.  Just like the grand pause in music, the noise of life is still ringing in my head during these times.  Silence, even quiet and calm at the waiting place is elusive.  The mind is a runaway train with no interest in slowing down, and I’ve long ago let go of the idea that there’s a conductor of any kind that might be on my side…

But if metaphor is medicine, as it so often is, finding the right one can make the waiting place tolerable, productive – perhaps even transcendant.   Trying to find peace in the stillness of meditation doesn’t work for me in the waiting place.  Luckily, the world is full of ways to find stillness, and not all involve sitting.  In the waiting place this time, I had cause to remember the time I was lucky enough to see a Sufi dance.  He kissed his robe first, representing his reverence and gratitude for his education, his teachers.  Then he began to spin – one foot always planted firmly on the earth, the other whirling around.  His face turned to the sky, one arm to the heavens and one to earth – he was a study in stillness in motion.

In the waiting place, I’ve decided that even though I can’t move forward, or back, I’m going to kiss my robes in gratitude, and dance…

Bargains! Bargains! Bargains! :)

I have become aware recently of the many bargains I make in the course of a day – I’m not talking about trying to score a deal on great shoes, though that’s always a fantastic moment.  No, the bargains I’m talking about are the ones I make to somehow make sense of it all.  They can be little bargains “I won’t say anything about my husband leaving the toilet seat up and he won’t think I’m a nag.”   But they can get pretty large: “If I take care of everyone around me, they’ll take care of me” or “If I have to ask for what I need, it’s because I’m not really loved”  I grew up in a family where things only really “counted” if you got what you needed and didn’t have to ask – in other words, the only way of telling whether or not someone actually loved you was to read your mind…   All of this generally passes unnoticed, sometimes for our entire lives.   Most of these bargains we take for granted every day: “I’ll stay at a job I hate because I have to provide for my family and I might not get a better one.”  But they can be tools of our own misery, like “I won’t put my needs first because I don’t deserve to have/get what I want.”  Frequently, the only time we become aware of these bargains we’ve made is when we feel the anger rise inside of us the other end of the bargain isn’t being held up.  We’ve made a bargain on one side, so we expect it will be kept on the other side – but who is on the other side?

For the religious its pretty easy – perhaps it is God we’re bargaining with.  ”If I am a good person nothing bad will happen to me or anyone I love.”  ”If I am good no one will hurt me.”  ”If I do everything you ask of me I’ll be taken care of.”  A lot of these bargains have to do with how we wish to see ourselves – as devout, or holy or maybe just in control.  But even those who don’t worship a particular God have lots of bargains to make, with “the universe” or whatever we might believe is on the other side of the bargaining table.  So if we’re not even sure who we’re making bargains with, why would we believe that we’re making them?  Why is it so paradigm-shattering when they are revealed as meaningless?

First, I’ve come to understand that I’ve invested so much in my view of the world that to give up on my bargains is to give up on our feeling of safety or security.  I’ve made bargains to get through the day, to be sure, to get myself to do things we might not want to (“I’ll eat this snickers now and just go to the gym later”).  But when faced with the knowledge that being good, or distorting myself to please others, or sacrifice myself in the name of some future reward isn’t going to get me what we want, and certainly not make me happy, it throws me into crisis.  How on earth, then, am I going to be in control of anything?  If I can’t make deals about the stuff going on in the world, and how it affects me, how to get through the day without going nuts?  How to justify the hurt I’ve experienced?  In my unenlightened way of thinking, all unhappiness or suffering has to mean something.  It has to lead to something greater, something better.  ”I was born into this insane family because I can heal them” was a particular favorite of mine – until I realized I couldn’t.  Suddenly all that I had suffered enraged me, depressed me, made me wonder why I was here or even if I wanted to stay.  For a spiritual person these are moments of great promise – because I realized in that moment how I had been fooling myself, and as much as it hurt, it was good to be off the hook.  Forgiveness is about letting yourself out of the bargains you’ve made, even though you know that they were never real in the first place.  Awareness is about understanding why we believe the things we believe.  Compassion is coming to love and respect these, well, misunderstandings of the nature of things, because it leads to empathy for everyone else around us.  Watching others make the same bargains we have can begin to destroy the illusion of self, that we’re somehow making all this up for the first time.  Watching my own bargains unravel has led me to question why I do what I do in every area of life.  When things are terribly different from what I was hoping for, will analyzing every aspect of that keep it from happening again?  Or perhaps more importantly, am I happy?  Is happiness dependent on what I do, or my own choice?

While I certainly don’t think that any of us will EVER get rid of all of our unspoken or even unconscious bargains – they are a part of the human response to a complex universe, becoming aware of them can be a revelatory experience.   But we won’t find them in our thought patterns, generally, because they are designed to hide behind layers of habit and thinking – where we find them is in our behavior, what we do tells us more about who we are than what we think.  Doing something different, saying something different, letting it all fall apart – this is what has shown me how I think, and how important all of this is to my self-identity.  If all that we do is motivated by self-interest (as any good Zen master will tell you), then it might be good to find out what our interests are.  I didn’t need to spend years in a temple to find out, no one really does (but they’re great places to hang if you’re into it, some are really, really pretty).  I just needed to look at my own actions without thinking, bargaining or judging.  I had to break my own deals to see that they existed.  I had to grieve losing them, risk that naked-in-the-world feeling that I have no control except over what I do (and that’s only true with real awareness).  I needed to become aware that all delusion is self-delusion, and that happiness doesn’t exist because of circumstances, or our sense of success or control or security or anything else for that matter.  I had to find compassion for myself without “earning” it, and that has begun to make all the difference.

So what deals have you made lately?

When my world is rockin’

The last couple of months have been more insane than most – and it feels like so many folks I talk to are going through the fires right now.  We’re transforming, to be sure — getting challenged left and right in the most fundamental ways.  Many moons ago, in response to a similar situation in which my world just went careening off center, I improvised a ritual that really, really helped.  I’m sharing it here because I think many folks, regardless of spiritual affiliation or lack thereof, might find it useful.  Like all good rituals, there’s no one particular formula – we improvise according to the moment.  There are a few disclaimers, and I’ll include those as we go along.  First and foremost I share this in the spirit of healing, and for that purpose only.

If you’ve been stressed, or negative energies (or people) have been in the space, you might want to burn some sage first to cleanse the place.  Remember that sage (there are MANY species which do many things, so here I’ll speak of white sage as that is most commonly used by folks for generally cleansing) clears the space – creates a sort of vacuum.  If you want it to cleanse the space you will have to “tilt” it toward the positive.  Keep saying positive things as you direct the smoke everywhere – even just speaking words like compassion, peace, benevolence, loving kindness, abundance, love, prosperity, safety.  You can get fancy – sometimes I like to say “may waves of benevolence roll out from this place and wash all corners of the earth and all beings.”  Or “this is a place of compassion and love for all beings, only beings of light and love may enter here” or something like that.  Whatever wonderful, positive blessing you need to hear, say it, and acknowledge the beings of light and love that go before you, and will come after.

This is a ritual of self-healing, and can also incorporate healing of others as well.  What is most important is that you heal yourself FIRST (just like the cabin crew advise – put your OWN oxygen mask on before helping others – words to live by).  If it doesn’t work for you, its not for you – something else will come along if you trust your process.

First, find a quiet, private place – can be outside, inside, doesn’t matter.  What matters is that you are not interrupted and feel comfortable saying or doing whatever comes to you.  Personally, I like to do this ritual on the hardwood floor in front of a giant floor-to-ceiling mirror (got some big mirrored doors a while back that I use for decoration, and they’re great for this purpose), to see what I see in the mirror, and to use my own reflection to ground myself back in the present when I’m coming back out.  If you have a mirror you can lean against a wall or perhaps up against a favorite tree outside, then by all means do it – if not, it isn’t important.

[For those with ritual experience, I pass no judgements but add two disclaimers a) I do NOT advocate any kind of invocation THROUGH the mirror, this is not its purpose so don't get cocky and b)  I do NOT advocate using the mirror to "scry" - this is NOT ritual magic.  The mirror is there to reflect you and help ground you, that's it.]

Get yourself a nice big container of sea salt, and enough candles to have one in each of the four cardinal directions.  You’ll need a compass as you begin by pouring out a circle of salt, clockwise, so you can begin in the East – the circle always begins in the East.   Procede to pour out a line of salt in a large enough circle that you’ll feel comfortable sitting in it for as long as it takes (folded blankets or pillows and bolsters are great for sitting – or use a small chair or bench – just be comfortable so you’re not inclined to rush).  My salt circles are usually about 5 feet across, and I do them on hardwood or tile indoors, grass outdoors.  Be sure that you create a visible, solid line of of salt around you and close it up at the East.   Doesn’t need to be perfectly round.  Then, light your first candle in the East, and procede to light them counter-clockwise until all are lit.

[USE APPROPRIATE candle holders that are SAFE for your environment.  Indoors?  Use protective holders.  Outdoors?  Use hurricane holders or outdoor holders designed not to blow over.   Again, you only "need" four, but feel free to use as many as you like for a beautiful aesthetic experience.  I like to place them outside the salt circle, but inside works just as well.  Be sure to be aware if they're close to you - don't set yourself or anything else on fire.  Regular candle safety applies.  It all looks lovely in the reflected mirror or outdoors, depending on your environment and there's no sense in doing a ritual if it ain't gorgeous, eh?  But use your common sense to keep yourself and your environment safe - your highest self isn't going to rescue you with a fire extinguisher if you forget basic candle safety.]

Next, cast the circle.  Again, this isn’t for ritual magic.  Casting the circle is simply calling upon the four elements, in order, to express your gratitude and to ask that they close you in to your own private energetic space – so that only what you call into your space can come in.  Kind of like getting a private Karaoke room, so you can sing “wind beneath my wings” as many times as you want without offending anyone.

[I will add a disclaimer here for any control freaks or negative folk who might stumble across this ritual and think they can use it to invoke things against their will.  All I can say is a) it won't work and b) you're opening yourself up for a world of hurt.   Karma can be a bitch if we're selfish, egomaniacal assholes.]

For those who have never cast a circle,  you start to the East, same as your salt and candles, and begin by acknowledging and thanking the element of air.   We breathe in and out all day every day, but how often to we thank air for all it does for us?  Talk to the air, thank the air for filling your lungs when you were born, and for not leaving you until you pass from this world.  The air you breathe in today was exhaled yesterday by someone in China or Africa or anywhere, really – air connects us all!  Thank air for the breeze on your face, for nurturing the life around you.  Take a moment to feel the air, your lungs filling, as you thank the air for your life.  Ask the air to join your circle, with gratitude.

Next turn to the south and acknowledge and thank the element of fire.  Our whole world is dependent on the fire of the sun, we rely on fire for warmth and food – and it transforms everything in its wake.  Thank fire for your life, how it keeps you warm, how it renews and transforms, how it provides light to all beings.  Feel the warmth of a fire on your face, look into the light of the flame of one of your candles, and thank fire.  Ask the fire to join your circle, with gratitude.  If you are in a desert climate or someplace that is particularly fire-prone, ask fire to join your circle in balance – this is true of all the elements.  If there is a raging rain storm outside, ask water or air to join your circle in balance, etc.  But this should in no way dampen your gratitude for the element’s role in sustaining all (and especially your) life.

Next turn to the West and acknowledge and thank the element of water.  Our bodies are made up of so much water, it sustains us, cleanses us, nourishes our food and the land.  I like to quote the Tao when I thank water – “the highest good is like water, which nourishes all things and contends with none.  It flows into low places that others disdain, and thus is close to the Tao.”  When I was a kid, swimming in the ocean saved my life, so I thank water for a good long time.  I feel the water in my body, feel the strength and power of the ocean, remember the gentle rain that feeds the land.  The awesome power that carves canyons in rock.   I ask water to join my circle, with gratitude.

Then, we turn to the North and the element of earth.  This one can sometime be intimidating for folks, because it is from earth that we arise, and to earth that we return.  I thank the earth for holding me, for giving rise to me, and for always being there to receive my body when I am no longer alive.  I thank the earth for sustaining me and all life, feel dark soil in my hands, the smell of the earth after a rain.  I feel my feet strong against her, and thank the earth for never letting me go.  I thank her for sharing all the elements that make up my body at this moment, and thank her for being there to take me when I am gone.  I ask earth to join my circle, with gratitude.

Finally, we turn back to the East, and close the circle.  You can say something like, “I now close this circle, knowing that I am completely alone in this space and time, and only that which I invoke can enter.”  Then, I sit down to get to the good stuff.

Take a moment in your beautifully cast and lit circle.  Feel your being fill the space.  First, invoke your highest self, call it your Buddha self, or your Christ consciousness, or whatever you’d like – just ask that your highest self be there guiding you.   I like to imagine my highest self sitting behind me and enfolding me in a warm, comforting embrace of light and warmth.  I imagine my laughing Buddha eyes, my compassionate Christ smile, in general raising my vibration.  I ask that my highest self keep my circle strong, so I can focus on the task at hand.

Then I begin by invoking past selves.  When I initially improvised this ritual, I thought that I was only going to invoke my 4-year old self.  Something had gotten triggered in me, and I was emotionally regressing, so I thought I should talk to my 4 year old self and see what was going on.  As it turned out that evening, every one of my past selves, from birth to aged 35 had something they needed to say to me!  I invoked each in turn – my birth self, holding her, singing to her, telling her she was safe.   She didn’t feel safe then, so I made sure that I made her feel safe, and loved, and cherished.  When she was relaxed and happy and had received enough love from me, I told her to feel how strong my (our) arms are now, how loving and protective we are, what we have become together.  When we were done, I sent her to a place of joy – of her own choosing.  Whatever place of joy she had known, I sent her to be there knowing that I was now here ready and able to keep us safe and protected.  She had done her work, made her sacrifice, and now I was taking over.

I did this for the “me’s” of every age.  As I was severely abused as a child, I remember very little of my childhood and my childhood selves.  So some were completely unfamiliar.  Some came into the circle angry – stomping mad.  Some needed to cry and be held.  Some just couldn’t understand why these horrible things were happening, and demanded an explanation.  In every case, I listened to them with compassion, told them how loved and cherished they are, acknowledged that it was THEIR sacrifice that enabled me to become the healer and being of light that I am now.  I every case, when they had cried, or played or stomped or wailed themselves clean, I invited them to look at me and feel my strength, my compassion, to look upon and feel our highest self – “look at what we become because of your sacrifice” I kept saying, “I owe you my life little one” and assured them that now I was in taking over their burdens.  I lifted their shame, their guilt, their anger, their rage, their sorrow, their loneliness by acknowledging it, hearing it, letting it rage and then comforting them however they needed to be comforted, and finally sent them to a place of joy where these things were no longer the center of their life.  Some finally got the opportunity just to play in that circle, just to be a kid under watchful and loving eyes.  It was profound and moving.

Last, when all the children were safe in their places of joy, I turned to address my highest self. I had my own fears, shame, anger, sadness, grief, guilt, etc.  It was time to cry out to my highest self that I was afraid I was unlovable, that I was broken.  After allowing my children to see my strength, I allowed my highest self to see my weakness.  I asked to be held, for comfort, for guidance and strength.  I asked for patience with my process, and faith that it would all happen.  When I was washed clean of all this negativity (there was quite a bit of crying), I sent those negative things to a place of joy as well!  I sent my fear to a place of joy, my shame to a place of joy, my anger to a place of joy – and acknowledged that I could trust my highest self to take those burdens.  I let them go, with gratitude.

When this process is complete for you, you may also talk to your highest self of loved ones needing healing, or others who may need guidance.  If you are moved to mention someone and send them a gift of light and love, do so!  You don’t have to invoke them into your circle to send them gifts.  Ask your highest self to advise you.  No sense in holding on to all that goodness, send it out as you feel appropriate

Now it is time to reopen the circle and let “real life” back in.  Ask your highest self to stay with you and guide you as you open yourself back up.  Begin to open the circle by again thanking all the elements for your life, for sustaining you to do this work, and for the space and time to accomplish this work.  Then consciously open the circle, with gratitude.  See yourself emerging back into the world.  As you feel yourself filled with your highest self, use your hands to open a section of the salt circle.  You may leave the candles burning to “hold the space” of your ritual for a while – particularly if you feel it raising the vibration of whatever place you have used.  If you have done this ritual outdoors, be sure to wash away the salt with sufficient water so as not to damage the plants or grass.  If you have done it indoors, sweeping and vacuuming is fine as long as you do it with gratitude for the time and the space the salt gave you to be with your selves.  Sweeping is great because you can fill a vessel with the salt and place it on your personal altar for a bit, and keep that great feeling going even longer.

Finally, when you are ready, blow out the candles.  You can say something like “I extinguish the flame, but the light remains…”  Give yourself some time to reflect on the experience.

How do you feel?

I send light and love to all that you are, all that you were, and all that you shall be (which are really all the same anyways)… Namaste.

Pardon me, but your eyeballs are bleeding…

I firmly believe, after 20 years of practice and performance, that improvising music accomplishes spiritual work in real time.  While this is a statement many would agree with, it will never make it into the pages of a scholarly journal.  My experiences as improvising musician have taught me everything from conquering my social phobias and intellectual insecurities, to teaching me much about the life force, call it “chi” or “prana” or whatever you will, improvisation is a remarkable training ground for the budding light worker and healer.  Of course, as an academic composer and theorist these were things I couldn’t say without consequences (see last post about unemployment for confirmation on THAT).  So how is it, that while I was learning to heal others through energy work that came as a side benefit of my musical practice, I became less and less able to heal myself?

I grew up in a chaotic, abusive and neglectful household, my need for approval was massive because nothing I could do would stop the hurt.  I learned that if I worked hard, set goals, kept my head down, I could keep from getting beat up, molested, or psychologically tormented.  This training in an abusive family translated perfectly to a small music department – working hard, setting goals, keeping your head down and not making waves was a great way to ensure life-long security, if not a very interesting existence.  Why couldn’t I do it?  So many in my field cautioned me to do the really interesting stuff after I could no longer be fired – a concept I liken to “bait and switch.”  The energy released in me in the structured framework of academia was powerful, and the students knew it.  We accomplished so much together: Festivals, professional performances, incredible experiences of intellectual discovery.  I had no idea at the time that the energy I was experiencing was being held together by the institutional framework I was in.  Boundaries were clear, crossing them even clearer.  I see my last few years as straining against the bonds forged around me, asserting my dissent, seeing the value in other ways of doing things.

And now I have all the freedom to do what I will, and I find the prospect almost equally binding.  On a recent visit to my eye doctor she asked me if I had been under tremendous stress over the last few years.  I wanted to know why she was asking, and she informed me that my retinas were bleeding – something associated with intense, long-term stress.  Of course, the gastroenterologist had already told me that the overwhelming pain in my stomach that sent me to the ER at least 4 times was due to a spasm in the duct between my liver and intestine – again, brought on by tremendous stress.  Thinking that leaving behind the bonds I previously operated under seemed like the cure, but absolute freedom is as terrifying as restriction.  Those on the other side of the fence wonder if they step out of the jobs they hold, that they will find a new way of being, more bliss, more fulfillment.  While I can say that this is true (and there ain’t nothing like deciding what you’re going to do in a day rather than having that decided for you!), that fantasy hides the tremendous risks associated with such a move.  For the first time in my life no one is telling me what to do to keep my job – that ship has sailed.  Not to mention that there are almost no jobs in my field and everyone else sees me as highly overqualified.  So I surf the waves of uncertainty, knowing I can wipe out at any moment.  Still working on experiencing the joy associated with riding the waves, the possibilities, the freedom.  Some days all I can think about is how on earth I’m going to get everything  done so I might actually put food on the table.  So I sit back for a few moments, imagine the power of a Pacific wave lifting me and carrying me, and get back to work with a smile on my face…

Next time: What’s a light worker like you doing in a place like this?

How time flies when you’re in the middle of a meltdown…

So I got this blog over a year ago in the hopes that I could document, in some small way, what I was happening both to me and so many around me: that we were all suddenly faced with incredible change.  I could only speak for myself, of course, but having spent my whole life thinking I’d live comfortably as an academic was suddenly interrupted by the most ill-timed denial of tenure ever possible (it would seem) in the history of mankind.  Of course, denying tenure is a great way to trim budgets, and I’ve no illusions that I’m the only academic who suddenly found herself out in the cold.  Let’s face it – entire departments of what used to be essential scholars were suddenly being dissolved – tenured or not.  The medieval institution with a 19th century approach to disciplines and a 16th century model of bureaucracy was encountering the 21st century economic melt-down, and it exposed quite a few to the new economic realities of a post-digital world.

I figured a blog was the perfect place to document my transition – from academic to… ? What was I going to become, exactly?  What set of skills, honed at great expense with the massive student loans to prove it, would help get me by in this new reality – and could I figure it all out before I ran out of money?  Then, the transition actually began: taught my last class, collected my last paycheck, figured out my insurance, signed up for unemployment (for the first time in my life, of course)…  Suddenly the great news that I had a premiere at Roulette in New York was tempered with the knowledge that I’d pay for the entire trip myself and it wouldn’t “count” for anything on my next merit increase.  Indeed, I’d have no more “merit” increases, or promotions, at my former institution.  There was no one to tell me what my art “counted” for, what my scholarship had to contribute.  No one to pat me on the head and tell me that I was doing a good job, worthy of promotion.  The independent scholars and musicians I’d admired for years suddenly took on a new lure and mystery – how had they done this?  Seeing Pauline Oliveros and Kristin Norderval at ICMC in June helped.  Pauline was the original “I think I’ll go my own way thank you” composer, and Kristin continues to inspire me with her incredible productivity and ground-breaking work as an independent composer/performer.

But when it came time to actually sit down and write about my experiences, to use this blog to mark this moment in my development somehow, I found myself frozen.  Everyone is blogging for heaven’s sake, it isn’t like it is some new art form I was experimenting with.  There are extension courses you can take on “blogging for fun and profit” – but I certainly wasn’t having fun, or making a profit.  I was sitting in front of the “new post” screen day after day after day without a thing to say, or too much to say I suppose would be more accurate.  Had I been betrayed by “the system” or had I betrayed myself?  Had I betrayed anything – was this just what was “supposed” to happen?  I want to strangle everyone who says “everything happens for a reason” despite its relevance to Newtonian physics and the properties of cause and effect – but let’s face it, the physics of the human heart are a lot more complicated than Newton could ever hope to quantify.  I was the one with the need, the desire, the desperation to say or do something that might make sense of it all, and I was the very slack-jawed non-blogger sitting motionless in front of a screen that millions of others rushed to fill with everything from kitten photos to news analysis.  What could I hope to add to the millions of voices blogging happily away?

I guess this is less of a blow-by-blow documentation now, and more of a reflective place.  I’ve come through my first year as independent composer/musician/performer/designer/installation artist/light worker and producer (more on all of those, later).  So now, perhaps, this is a place where I give thanks.  Thanks for my survival; thanks for the time to reflect (due in large part of shoulder reconstruction made necessary by years of playing, hauling and performing without much regard for how it was affecting my body).  I would go so far as to say thanks for the pain – it got my attention anyway.  Slowed me down to the point where I could be imperfect, do what I could rather than all I’d imagined, helped me to allow myself all the weaknesses and foibles of humanity without the illusion of “having it together.”

Now this should be interesting…

all bait, no switch

photo by Assaf Pocker

So, you’ve found yourself at the new banshee blog – welcome!  Beginnings are so magical, and so vast.  Here, my own process of integration and transformation might yield something of value.  Music, art, writing, being – creatively and in harmony with all that surrounds.  Thanks for being here.