Listening for the Word

 The Journey 

  

Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again
painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.

Sometimes everything
has to be inscribed across
the heavens
so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.

Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
small bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.

~ David Whyte

First Sip   

    

I do love seeing the full (or close to full) moon in the dark morning sky, and I was quite surprised to receive this poem this morning. Actually, I do not think surprised is the right word. I really do not believe in coincidences much any more. 

Last week, I had a snippet of a song roaming around my mind, "This Is My Commandment", but I could not find it in any hymnal. Then, on Friday, a volunteer pianist and I visited a community that serves elders who have been diagnosed with a mental illness. Many of those who gather with us enjoy singing, and some do so with great gusto. The staff member who helps gather people in also loves singing, so we generally have a good time.  After worship, she asked if anyone had a song request. One man, who spoke so quietly that I had to draw close to him to hear, said that he "had one" but he was having some trouble remembering what it was. I tried to assure him that it would come to him. I then heard him haltingly sing the words, "This is my commandment". The woman sitting next to him recognized the song and amplified his singing which brought both him and me much happiness. Then we joyfully sang it together. In that moment, freedom surfaced, and I gave thanks for these group efforts that remind us that Jesus is always present, knitting us together in surprising ways.

   

The sky is now a beautiful pink, and the moon, while still visible, is slightly veiled by a thin veneer of clouds. The birds have begun their morning songs. As precarious as the journeys must have been for our early ancestors, I believe they looked up, and often celebrated the sky that taught them the signs of changing weather and seasons. Like us, they needed both the sky and one another. I am grateful for all these lessons.  

Yes, gratitude is the word I was looking for.  

 

"I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you and your joy will be complete."   

John 15:11

image: Hunter Moon, San Leandro

Reaching In, Reaching Out

"The extremes are easy.
Only the middle is a puzzle."

~ Louise Gluck  

First Sip   

 

And it is the middle way that people of faith are called to move around in. Because that is where people meet. In that open space is where compassion lives. It is there where we find Christ, Krishna, Buddha, and a Host of Others. There we find love. 

        

image: April 2023

Coming Home

 This week I was blessed to be able to spend four days at Villa Maria del Mar in Santa Cruz. There I met with seven friends with whom I graduated in 2007 from the spiritual direction program at San Francisco Theological Seminary. The weather was beautiful; the pelicans and seagulls seemed to be finding plenty to eat, and the sail boat regatta  came by on Wednesday evening. Our conversations and reflections were rich as we pondered the changes in our lives: the physical, mental, and spiritual. Yes, we have done this every year. 

This year I took my flute with the intention of finding a secluded place to practice. Every morning before breakfast, I went down to the beach and simply played. That experience proved to be incredibly moving. I no longer felt I was "on the beach" but rather that I was a part of it. The colors seemed richer; the ocean was an exquisite blue and the cliff nearby appeared gold as it reflected the rising sun. As I played, I watched the shore birds, pelicans, and gulls begin their day. I noticed the industrious insects in the sand. I was deeply touched as I watched a young couple joyfully run and play with their dog. 

During our retreat, we were surprised to learn that an interest in music had re-surfaced for several of us. One friend had attended a recent singing retreat. Two others had experienced a renewed interest in Taize. The friend who attended the retreat mentioned that at the end of their time together they had a talent show, and she suggested that we do the same. In my typical fashion, at first I said no. However, I then remembered a Hafiz poem that I had recently discovered, so I decided to read that, and include a couple of short musical interludes, or what Tyler calls "flute noodles". Stories and poems were shared, and together, we sang Taize. I was asked if I could play the flute to accompany some of the Taize, but I declined until next year. One person responded, "You can tell Tyler (who plays in a band)  you have a gig next year!" I did indeed tell him that. He responded by handing me a copy of "O Holy Night" and suggested that he and I play this piece for Christmas. I shall give it a go.   

I often think of an ancient flute that is currently housed in a museum in Slovenia. It is described as the "oldest musical instrument in the world, a 60,000-year-old Neanderthal flute is a treasure of global significance. It was discovered in Divje babe cave near Cerkno and has been declared by experts to have been made by Neanderthals.

It is made from the left thigh bone of a young cave bear and has four pierced holes. Musical experiments confirmed findings of archaeological research that the size and the position of the holes cannot be accidental – they were made with the intention of musical expression.
The flute from Divje babe is the only one that was definitely made by Neanderthals. It is about 20,000 years older than other known flutes, made by anatomically modern humans. This discovery confirms that the Neanderthals were, like us, fully developed spiritual beings capable of sophisticated artistic expression."  

Today, here on the West Coast, we probably will not be able to see the eclipse because the sky is overcast.  I am okay with that. I look to the sky every morning, and give thanks for the wonders that I see. My heart is full. I do look forward to one day being able to see a truly dark sky, and playing with the stars. Perhaps much like my Neanderthal flute playing ancestor did so long ago. 

    

"Listen to This Music"
   
I am a hole in a flute that the Christ's breath 
moves through - listen to this music. 
  
I am the concert from the movement of every 
creature singing in myriad chords.   
  
And every dancer, their foot I know and lift. 
And every brush and hand, well, that is me
too, who caresses any canvas or cheek. 
   
How did I become all these things, and beyond
all things?  
   
It was my destiny, as it is yours.  My poems are 
about our glorious journey.
   
We are a hole in a flute, a moment in space, that
the Christ's body can move through and sway 
  
all forms - in an exquisite dance - as the wind in 
a forest. 
   
Hafiz   
A Year with Hafiz  
Daniel Landinsky   

images:  

My photograph is entitled, "My Practice Room, Santa Cruz, 2023  

The  Neanderthal flute comes from this website: 

https://www.nms.si/en/collections/highlights/343-Neanderthal-flute#:~:text=The%20oldest%20musical%20instrument%20in%20the%20world%2C%20a%2060%2C000%2Dyear,have%20been%20made%20by%20Neanderthals