Tuesday, May 29, 2007

The Value of Playing a Musical Instrument

Playing any musical instrument is a way of hands on exploration of the fabric of the universe.
You will discover more about yourself from the daily discipline of practice than any other ritual
or method of fulfillment. You will discover your levels for patience, forgiveness, endurance and
your capacity for experiencing bliss!

Learning to tune the instrument will teach you even more about yourself. Creating and making your
own instrument is the ultimate joy.

I know men that have made amazing dulcimers, drums, harpsichords and horns from natural and
recycled materials. I saw a man in Mexico playing an instrument he had fashioned from a tuna fish
can and guitar strings.

Be it piano, guitar, harmonica, violin or the human singing voice, you are in for a spiritual, expressive
and humbling process. A process that can only give value to your life.

Experiment, touch and listen to instruments. You will find one that expresses you and that part of your
inner soul only the language of musical sound can express.

I know, I know, this all sounds like: "Go blow your horn!", "Follow your own drummer..." "Sing like
no one is listening..." but, making music is a way of integrating one's physical, mental and invisible
parts into one beautiful mind.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Drums

When I turned 40 I wrote a book titled, "A Self-Help Guide for Men Over Forty". I never pursued the effort of having it printed except at my own expense and handed it out to various friends. This evening I was cleaning out my computer desk and in one of my files I discovered a copy of this catalog for men in search of their maleness and self-discovery (as I referred to it at the time I was writing it.)
Well, I began scanning the pages and realized so much of what I had written 20 years ago was still a big part of my on going saga of self-discovery so I have decided to re-write some of the articles in my blog for the next few days. One subject that I
loved was called DRUMMING.

Drumming was one ritual I refused to experience for years. When I finally opened up to the idea it opened a secret place in the heart of a very angry and confused young boy. That boy was me at 40 years of age!

Years ago I attended a conference for men where various workshops, excellent speakers and many tools were presented that would allow a middle aged man to feel comfortable with his maleness. The conference was in Colorado. Sweat Lodges, Group discussions and exercise in Ti Chi and Yoga were on the menu of events.

One evening I was invited to participate in a drumming ceremony. I dressed in cut-offs and a tank-top. The night air was pristine, fragrant with wild flowers and pine. Eight men sat around a roaring fire as the instructor gave a short demonstration on the art of beating a drum. Then came the moment of truth. Each man took a drum in hand and began beating any rhythm he sensed as well as chanting and singing in strange melodies... This was everything I considered bordering on insanity!

Suddenly I was up in the circle beating my drum and humming to myself as the fire and night sky melted into one event.
Then it happened. I began making a strange crying sound from deep inside my guts. I was beating the drum to a pattern of beats that were streaming up and outward from my solar-plexus. I sang, danced and made sounds I thought unimaginable.

After the drumming I wandered off into the hills. Laying on my back against the cool earth and starring into the firmament of sparkling stars I felt tears streaming down my cheeks. My body was still thrumming with the vibrations of the drum-dance experience.

I have no desire to analyze this experience. It is sacred to me and I found it healed something that for years I was not able to put into language. It may not be the right thing for everyone. I did it with no intention of finding enlightenment of any value. No doubt the workshops, group encounters had some impact on me but the drumming was the highlight of the conference.

I found that after years of beating myself up emotionally, the beating of a drum felt so much nicer and answered things I did not understand. Follow your own drummer...You will be happy you did. Be aware that the beating on the skin of the drum can drive some people crazy, so be kind to your neighbors and friends by beating your drum privately where no one will be upset with your ceremony. (OMG, this sounds so sexual!) Well?

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Opening a restaurant...

Here is a typical day: Telephone starts ringing around 7:30 AM. I leap out of bed and attempt the "I've been awake for hours enjoying the day" voice.
"Hello! The Nordic Inn." Half the time it is a person from a foreign country asking to speak with the office manager about printer supplies or a bank asking about investing money...

Stranger to the Mr. Coffee Maker. Flip the button to green light. Listen to the gurgling sounds of water as it becomes hot enough to brew my java. I pour a cup and sit on the deck outside my bathroom blinded by the glorious morning light. A choir of wild birds kisses my ear drums as the morning dew releases the scents of sage brush, pine and cedar trees. I have a list of calls to make, but put them off until 11:00 AM.

My dear friend and a great musician, Alan, the Saxophone man arrives for a rehearsal. I have missed making music with my friends. Tomorrow I will play piano with my Bass Man, Bryan. I drive over to the post office, grocery store and hardware store. Manage to find everything on the lists.

Now, make the calls I've put off all morning, meet with my main distributor to see and learn what damage has been done to the prices of meat, veggies, dairy and staples. After this hour of same ole, same ole stuff, I wander to the laundry room and begin washing table clothes, napkins and dish towels. Organizing cupboards and moving sprinklers. It is unseasonably hot! I worry about forest fires...

Call my floor manager, Carly about schedules and who is working. Call accountant about the tax things/ new laws about wages and SS etc. Finally call the State Dept. in Washington D.C. about renewing my passport. Check E mails and even write a few.

Change prices on menu and organize the new menus for printing. Make dinner, plant herbs in pots for use in the restaurant and walk up to the house. I light candles, turn on Marhlar's 5th Symphony and lay on the floor of my bedroom with the cats.
Peace and harmony.

Finally I write a blog! Tomorrow is much the same except I will get the menus printed and wash windows. Cut lawn, paint eves on building and dead head the tulips that have died. Need to place an want add in the paper for house keeping. The woman who was to clean rooms calls today and says "No Can Do!" because the boy friend is going to be sick all summer!
Okay! Someone always comes down the road.

I am now going to read until my eyes fall back into my head and the lids shut tight. Sweet dreams.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Comments

As of this afternoon, anyone that wishes to leave a comment after one of my simple blogs may do so. Your message will
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Thanks.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

In Wyoming...





Long flight home. Delayed in Auckland due to mechanical problems. Made it into LAX just in time to get through customs,
run to Delta and catch the flight (full of mormons) into Salt Lake City, Utah. My brother was at baggage waiting to return me to family, dry air, high altitude and traffic jams from hell on Inter state I-15. I would become so addicted to xanax if I had to face that high way everyday of my life, I'd no doubt die, either from the smoggy air, or the feeling of claustrophobia being closed up in a car for hours on end.

Spring time in the Rockies is fantastic. The drive to Wyoming was pure joy. Wide open spaces and the scent of sage brush.
Stopped in Evanston. Filled the car with gasoline. Damned near fainted when I paid the bill in SLC, Ut, but WY ?????? We have tons of gasoline under the ground in WY!!! After the gas price adjustment, went to a very dated coffee shop for a cup of the real thing! Yup, very weak coffee and very relaxed. Then drove to Cokeville. Stopped at the truck stop and had lunch.
All the food is PRE-FABRICATED, pre cooked, pre you name it.

Star Valley was a welcome sight. Drove through the valley to Alpine. Everything was in perfect order! Ran to the local grocery and hurriedly stocked up on the bare necessities. Then the moment of truth: I walk into my bedroom/studio/study.
Sat reverently before the finest alter on earth, my piano and played the Prelude in C Major by Bach with my eyes shut!

Blessed the room. Every piece of art, every candle, every book, every stone but most of all my piano.

The photos are of the inside of my restaurant, the outside of the business looking through the gazebo and the house I live in.
It is snowing lightly as I write. Spring is still in the air. Wish all of you could be here with me! But, I send you love and light every day and night when I lift my eyes up to the clouds, stars, sunsets, and moonlight. It's good to be home.