Kom me naar buiten allemaal
Dan zoeken wij de wielewaal
En vinden wij die muziekant
Dan is zomer weer in’t land!
Dudeldjo klinkt zijn lied
Dudeldjo klinkt zijn lied
Dudeldjo en anders neit.
Oh, it feels like Springtime inside and outside. . . the birds are singing, my heart is expanding out so far I feel like bursting!
So what do I do? Stay present – be present – exist. Live. Allow. Allow. Allow. It’s OK, I must reassure myself. I must be gentle and compassionate with myself. Allow myself to blossom. Allow that intellect that does exist within me if I just allow it.
I remember the flow from so long ago. The confidence. It’s funny – I feel the block as I begin to focus – it feels like a physical/energetic block that stretches between my left temple and my intestine or maybe my pancreas on my left side. Some of my intellectual recovery will involve physical recovery. I know the direction I need to go to allow more flow. . . more and more. A trickle, then a stream, then a torrent. In some areas of my being I believe I have allowed the flow. I feel healthy. In other areas I have barely begun to allow. But it is OK. It can’t be about self denigration, about blame. It must be gentleness, compassion, love. Suzie, it is OK. Be faulted. Be exactly who you are. And then feel the warmth and support around you as you are. Allow that warmth and support. Allow it. Let it cradle you. Let yourself melt into your own tears. Release. Let it go. Let it go. Grieve. Grieve. You know it is OK. Give yourself the time you need to grieve. You don’t need a reason. You don’t need to explain. Let the world hold you now. Take the time you need. Have faith in Life. Allow. Allow. Allow.
You see how it is coming. You see it. You are allowing it. It is not perfect. You are not perfect – yet maybe it and you are perfect because it is. Is. Allow. Allow. Allow. Help me to let go. Let go . Let go. Let go. Let go. Allow. Allow. Allow. Allow. Allow. Allow – my thoughts quiet a little. Allow – calmer and calmer. Allow – I can hear the fan of the pellet stove and the sound pattern of the flame. Allow – I hear my own breath. Allow – I see the light outside – a morning light muted by the clouds and the snow coming down. It’s coming down. It is morning. It is snowing. I am inside writing and listening to the pellet stove which is trying to warm the room. I look up and see the pictures of my kids and my friends on the wall. I am so lucky. So blessed. It is almost Christmas. I am late in my preparations, as usual. But it is OK. It is good. It is not about lots of presents anyway.
Today is my day to write – to begin to unwind that which needs to come out – is it me – is it a blockage – is it something more? What does that mean, anyway? Let it go. Don’t delineate. Don’t define. Allow. Allow. Allow. Organize it later. Let it tumble. Let it emerge how it will. You don’t have to control it.
Love. I am so very blessed. I am afraid of it. I don’t know what I mean by it. Surrender. Complete surrender. It brings out my fear of hierarchy and abuse – resentment – fear of being hurt and hurting. Fear. Fear. But this is anything but fear. It is a giving. A giving of self. Surrender that does not diminish, but magnifies and multiplies. The energy is more, not less. We become one and yet we are each ourselves even more deeply than before. Reaching down down down to our roots until we find our common ground. Reaching up up up and opening our senses – all of our openings, physical and non physical – opening all orifices, all pores, all abilities, all senses. Opening to allow it all to enter and then, twirl us around into the next swirl – the next pattern, the next commutation, the next structure, and we cannot control and yet we are it. How is it that we are available for the new pattern that the river requires? Yet be in contact with the earth. . . are we connected to the Earth? Are we connected to each other? What does “each other” mean? How is this vision connected to me sitting here in front of the pellet stove watching the snow outside? Can I do both? Can I open open open open open open until I no longer exist? I am the movement. . . I am the river . . . and I continue my day as I sprinkle salt on the sidewalk in front of my house and wonder about all of the yard work that has yet to be done around the house. What is the relevance of this bill I have in front of me? If I don’t write that check for the electric company, maybe eventually they still will turn off my electricity even though the flow – the flow – allowing – allowing – the silence – the silence – the incredible lightness – it is all perfect. Even my electric bill is perfect. It seems that there is a connection between not paying my bill and the electricity being turned off. That is what I have learned. You hit a billiard ball with your stick and that ball causes another to move. Cause and effect. It sure seems to work. Causal mechanisms sure seem to exist. You do this, and that happens. You step out over the side of the cliff and you fall. I would like to fly. But maybe I am not ready to fly yet. My intellect tells me that I will fall. But what about Faith? If you have Faith you will Fly.
This seems like the material of delusion. But when you have a new experience, beyond the usual, how do you bring it into your old way of thinking? How do you integrate it into your world view? It comes to a point where you just can’t anymore. It is no longer a case of integrating new information into what you think of as reality. Your ideas about reality have to change. But during that period when your world view is changing there is a sense of the world falling apart. The world is falling apart. There is nothing to hold onto. Nothing is solid anymore. Then you begin to reconstruct. But it has to begin with silence. Silence. Silence. Then the world starts to come in again. The fire is still flickering/roaring. The snow is still falling. Dakota stands up and shakes, hoping that I may finish with what I am doing so we can go outside and walk together in the falling snow. The world still exists even though my standpoint has fallen apart on some levels.
It sounds like illness – this falling apart. But it is actually a supremely healthy response to a necessity for a change of direction. I hope that this same thing is happening to all of us on some level. The beginnings of a necessary shift that will save us if we let it. Allow. Allow. Allow.
OK. So I am free. Now what? I want someone to tell me what to do. I am afraid of making a mistake. But that doesn’t help. I have my own senses to rely upon. What is beauty? What is my inclination? How can I do all of this without ideation? This is where I guess I need to go quiet. My mind is limited by my thought processes. But maybe my mind is bigger than my thought processes. Or my thoughts.
Some things feel good. Some things don’t. Are these feelings based on ideation? Not always. If I really get clear, patterns emerge which seem to be more than just my conception. Or maybe not. I do my best. We all do our best. Like following the notes of music that come. But why do they come the way they do? I don’t know. Is it me or is it something beyond me? I don’t have any way of knowing.
You know, I thought that each moment I was creating my own reality. But I am not God. Maybe relaxing and allowing creation in all of its perfection from moment to moment would be more fun.
If I stop identifying myself as the creator, it is so freeing. I can give up the guilt and the responsibility. I don’t have to think about it any more. Then I can just be. Be what? Be a little baby just taking her first steps.
So much of my life in the past couple of years has been in change. The process of change has made it necessary for things to be fluid. My music has been no exception. It has only been in the past couple of years that I have been playing the guitar and singing again. There was a twenty year gap when I did not create. I think the music I created a long time ago would be called folk music. Please forgive me, folks as I go along. I am an expert at nothing but my own present experience. I don’t know much about genres, I just have a general impression about things. In any case, my music has always been folky and acoustic. And I have pretty much stuck only to my own music and to my brother Billy’s music.
I self-pollinated for a long time. Actually in every sense. Not just music. But now I am reaching out. I want to learn about myself and the world. I’m done with being scared and not taking chances. So my music is following suit. It is changing. Much of it has been very fluid for a while. I am sort of afraid of committing to much structure. I feel that way generally about my life. I have been cast into a heavy mold for so long, I am afraid of being pinned down again. But my fear is lessening and form is surrounding the creative core. Yet in the process of traveling through parts of myself that I hadn’t allowed myself before, I am letting new kinds of expression out: still very fluid: grunts, shrieks, a language that seems to have a life of its own. But it is forming itself into something very new to me. And I am finding beauty in this new form.
I have found a wonderful place to perform my music, no matter how weird my music gets. The Wildflower Cafe in Bethlehem Pennsylvania is owned by a wonderful lady who has created this space where people can feel free to be themselves. It has attracted some amazing talents, and a lot of wonderful accepting people, where respect for each other is central. Come out on a Monday or Tuesday night to join in with the open mike. Sign up starts at 7:00 PM.
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