New paths...

I feel as though I have started really listening to what the universe is trying t tell me, and it has proven to guide me along some pretty profound paths recently that I have only just begun to travel. As one might expect, these paths are in the forests of my musical experience, yet both are incredibly unique to each other.

The first series of calls from the universe were essentially in the forms of opportunities that "fell into my lap." I use quotations because I'm not really sure if that ever really happens, but... I digress. The opportunities involved both my teaching of music and being a session musician for recordings. And there were multiple instances where these opportunities arose .... from presumably nowhere.

Now I have been having issues with the idea of session work for a while now, feeling as though my participation in these endeavors only prove to "feed the machine" that is the music industry, something I don't really care for in the least. However, I have been able to step beyond this rather crippling ideology, no matter how true it may seem, to realize that I have spent many, many years honing my musical craft, so why not take advantage of opportunities that utilize these skills doing what I love: playing music? (and strangely enough, I do really enjoy session work in the studio!)

And considering there are over 500 professional recording studios in Nashville, only 3rd in the US behind NYC and LA (and not all for country music thank god!) than it seems like a truly viable way to make money, connect with a music community, and ultimately do something that I am good at and enjoy (and isn't that the aim of any career?) So I am opening my world and pushing in the appropriate directions to see what comes of it all.

And with regards to teaching, I have one, potentially two trumpet students, without having looked for any! And I don't teach just trumpet... so I can't help but feel this is the universe asking me "what if you actually put some damned effort into it?!"

Now for the other musical path I am beginning to travel. The yang to my musical yin, or rather, my creative musical fulfillment.

It started when Ellen and I were in NYC a while back and I happened to see that one of my good friends (and easily one of the sickest musicians I know) had posted an invite to a gig he was playing at a bar called Nublu that night with Butch Morris and the Nublu Orchestra. Nublu is a club I had been to a number of times while living in NYC because a) it was literally only 3 blocks away from my apartment and b) it had some of the most fun, innovative, and truly badass music of anywhere in the city as far as I was concerned. So obviously, I had to go!

I had actually seen this ensemble once before and remembered begin moved by it. But that night I was moved in a way I don't think I have EVER been in my life. And I say that because although I enjoyed the music immensely and was incredibly inspired (as is often the case having experienced a wonderful show) this time a lot of puzzle pieces to my musical voice started really coming together, and I left the club that night feeling more purposeful than perhaps I've ever been. It was one of the few times I truly felt like I was merely a vessel, fulfilling a purpose I had been called to do. Dramatic, I know, but it's true.

So upon returning to Nashville, I immediately, and without hesitation, sent out emails to every musician in Nashville that I respected and felt might be interested in this new project. So, after countless hours of research and conceptualization, I've already had one rehearsal or "collective" as I like to call them with nine people, all of whom kicked ass, had fun, and seemed genuinely interested. And we already have the 2nd collective scheduled for next week, with musicians offering up their help and advice.

Now I am fully aware of course, that as purposeful and almost destined as this project may seem, I know it might not live as long I would hope. And I have come to terms with that. But to experience even the slightest glimmers of power the universe can show you, and to open yourself to that power, allowing your personal quest for bliss to convene with that which calls to you in the series of moments that make up your conscious (and unconscious) existence ... then you start to see traces of that light with burns as brightly as the center of our star and the essence of our souls.

Tally ho!

This makes me feel all funny inside...

you are to use this body you are to dance.

go learn from the masters the language of the body and find your dance.

you will create and recreate this dance many ways and many times and make it known and yours and illuminating and powerful and one with your vision and you will make it lightening and levity and lifting off into space above the building you build.

you are moving quickly and at the right pace and the building is nearly complete.

this is your inner building. the outer forms later, after the inner is complete and set on the trusting process of journey and every time you overcome a fear you build a wall a floor you install a high beam and this is a building of light – tensile, strong, impossible to “break” because the paradigm of destruction no longer applies to your life because you are beyond breaking now.

this building of light is your soul’s home, temple, playground, theater, church, mosque, office and only after it has become these things and do not despair, it can become them quickly and in a time-passage you might not expect, it is all up to your willingness to go where your fear sleeps, to wake it and ride it into itself where you will find a dear friend an ally a powerful being you need to call on access send out into the world as an ambassador – only then will the outer building of “income” and “profession” manifest for you.

did you know you are to let all your selves out to play?

no more trying to be one self.

this is the paradox of wholeness, of health.

this is what most of you cannot see, but many of you sense.

this the way to your holiness.

to manifest a myriad of selves, this is joy, this is the beauty and fun of life on this plane.

the power.

the exhilaration.

unpack your armor and let all your selves out to play.

and yes, the grounding is important.

you have a ground of Being on which you reside and stand firmly and connecting to this will keep you “sane” as you call it.

this has to do with levity and is another paradox to understand and unpack later.

come back to this.

it is important.

but for now, know that the world is waiting and needs all your selves.

and you will find they continue to come, one waiting behind every door in your deep Being and behind every door behind every door, and yes, as you suspect, they are infinite, these doors, and you do contain multitudes within multitudes and it is for you to learn how to access

release contain grow

nourish lead guide

and challenge them, give them pathways to self-mastery, and this is what is meant when I say that you all need to learn the art of mothering

the heart of mothering.

a spiritual mother, unconstrained by physical form, can give birth to a thousand thousand selves, beings, incarnations, such is her creative power and each of you has this within you.

and yet you decide on one for your whole life?

why commit this imprisonment of the soul?

why lose your light so easily?

these are the disenfranchised and as long as they lie unawakened in your own inner graves there will always be those deeply disenfranchised ones on the outside and the way to healing and wholeness is not to lock them up even more deeply but to let them out, give them ground for standing and it is for you to see that your way is illness this way you follow and worship like a god, this idea of being one self forever through time and space.

and yes, this is the madness you all fear.

go toward it. it is a beauty you cannot imagine and it will be your cure.

it looks like madness but only from where you are, it is not that serious or dis-astrous, it is simply the Divine playing.

the Divine Story unfolding in form, time and space.

this is your bliss.

your calling is deeply connected to it.

you know this.

this is the deep, deep forest – go in and dance.

(others will come.

they will not be able to stay away.

and this will be your “in-come.”)

Morning Walk

and i don't know where i am today except that i just took a long walk to Starbucks, by that i mean, down some alleys and danced a little and looked at some gnarly flowers (flowers are not smooth like in children's pictures. they're vinous and furry and gnarled.)and i passed store fronts and cars cars cars going going going. a store front with rugs. a store front with meditation paraphernalia and books and books and books on how to find peace. a store front with records. a store front with pink sandles and ruffled pink tops and flowy skirts. a store front with children looking smart and text that read, let your child amaze you. and there were samples of their tests laid out for all to see. and a store front with lizards and bunnies. looking. looking. looking. doing exactly what they would do in their natural habitat, but behind glass and the lizard opened it's mouth and displayed its nearly white tongue for me and smiling displayed its rows of saw teeth. and it's orange eye looked. and looked. and the hole in it's head that looked like it was covered with a dryer sheet to keep dust out was listening, i think. and the tiniest and biggest spikes all over were malleable and it's throat would puff. and i fucking screamed. i stared at that thing and said, it's an alien. it's an alien! and it's doing stuff to me through the glass. it's playing with my mind through the glass!! and i flew back onto the sidewalk holding my head "aaahhhh! arrrrrrr. ooowww!" and some people laughed and some people tried to help me calm down. and some people turned their heads and walked on. then i walked across the street to where moms where making plans and yuppies half-basked and half-squinted their faces wrinkling up against their mortality. and the sun blazed and tunnel vision went my eyes to two children. the girl was on the bench getting wierded out and joyfully so at her brother who was leaning over the back of the bench lyaayying at her and leaning over her and then lar lar lar yar ylraring at her again and i could only imagine that his eyes were doing something totally crazy too at her as she leaned away from him saying, "eeeeeeee. aaayyyy ll" and the people that were my size were doing robotic squinting brain things about what the day would be like if we did this or if we did that and what do we have to do, let's figure that out first. but i stared at the kids. i stared at them. i stopped in my tracks loosely pinching my two floppy dollars. i was outside of the starbucks store. i did not go into the starbucks store but i stared at them. and i stared. and i stared as they lollygargled on the bench and the birds sang and the grown-ups made plans. and then i took a deep quick split second breath and then with the force of a fire truck let out a roar at those kids, my eyes lit up like a dragon's. they screamed and jumped clear from the bench and and started running the opposite direction. i took one leap toward the bench, one leap on top of the bench where a mom sat hard in her sunglasses next to her buggy and one leap over the bench as she said "hey!" and i, despite the calls and confused cries of the big people that their children had disappeared and a stranger, was running after them, i ran.


the threshold to the alley shook, and i was there alone. in the alley. my hands and feet were smaller and less vinous; my eyes fell on a different part of the buildings. the big people who had been chasing me and had shaken through the threshold themselves were small too. their clothes baggy on them. the girls had dropped their large heavy purses and blinked at them. blinked at me. we stood there blinking at each other.


one boy began to huff and puff and huff and puff and huff and puff and huff and puff and we looked at him and he huffed and puffed and squealed and squealed and flew into a rage squealing and screaming: "yeah! YEAH!!. YEAH!! YEAHH! YEAHHHHHHH Y! Y! Y! YEAHHHHHHHHH." He stumbled and tripped out of his baggy clothes; big boxers dropped and he threw the tangle off of him and started pounding and beating on garage doors and running (yyyeeeahhhh!!!! . yeah yeah! YEAHHHHHHHHH!!!!! YEah!~ YeahYyyyyyYYY YY Y Y YY YY aaaaAAAAHHHH!!!!) and jumping up against garage doors all up and down the alley. jump pound beat. jump jump. jump pound. jump pound and powerfully clumsy beating.


We burst into laughter, some of us. some of us followed right away. some of us tried to follow but were laughing so hard we couldn't. goofy enveloped us. and we were tumbled and tossed screaming naked down the alley lyyllaarlyall yall yall-ing and jumping against garages and each other.


a big person came into view to call us onward to call us to task to call us into separate vans to click our belts and go go go to the stores and get get get things.


she had no air when she saw us. "what" is the only utterance she could utter at the tribal scene. Then she came to and started screaming with equal emphasis on the beginning of each word. what are you doing. and then a very fast get over here and then a deep and resounding now.


the boy and i had the same instinct, we sprinted toward her naked as the day we were born as she was born as all was first and then cut a hard right down the side walk sprinting as if our legs were twice as long and the big shouts followed. terrifying big shouts booming get back here.


with a one two three step something different was happening. i look down and my little feet were only skimming the ground and the boys little feet were all the way off the ground and we tilted and were tossed in to flight headlong into the wind like fish of the air. dodging bicyclists dogs big people like fish of the air. the big shouts stop. there are only shrill barks of dogs. then there is nothing but wind whipping past as we dive through the the air the wind hitting the top of my head and flapping down my hair. the wind rippling along my back and shooting off my feet and hands. we slip through.


i close my eyes gently and let the soaring wind-song envelop me and let it carry me.


the top of my head is smacked with pain darts and i am cold and fresh flopping around in the wet place. all is wet. swoo swoo spwoom zwoom zzooom! shlap! shlap shlap! three follow us. we pant. sniffle. bobbing in the waves, the light wind and seagulls in a sonic dance. and there is giggling and splashing and the light wind and seagulls in a sonic dance.


there's a hint of a wonder breezing in my mind about where i am exactly. and how i got here. it waxes and wanes and we splash we splash. we play and we float. the sky is definitely bright blue. and one cloud floats in reflection. we float. we float. we float.

Conflict

I have been going on and on to those immediately around me about my fixation on the voices in my head. I aim to stop talking about it soon, because it is really dear and maybe I just need to let it sit in me before wearing it out. However, there is an important point that I want to sit with and that I invite you to sit with. First off, if I haven't talked your ear off about the voices, what I mean when I say "the voices in my head", I am referring to all inner dialogue - the voice narration, the voice that articulates ideas and thoughts, the voice of self-reflection, the voice of doubt and insecurity, the voice that analyzes the other voices, etc. All of it. Even the voice that I am allowing to come through me in typing this post. I have been getting to a point of trying to detach from identifying with these voices. Not that I see them all as malicious, or egoistic, or helpful, or anything. It's just that since they pop up uninvited with fully formed ideas and beliefs of their own, it doesn't seem like they necessarily have my best interest in mind and so far, believing they are me or that their thoughts are mine has frequently led to conflict. This is the point I'm trying to get to. According to a voice that seems reasonable and that upon reflection I choose to agree with, all human conflict appears to be the result of taking what one or more inner voices tell us and identifying with it. The conflict is that other people are doing the same thing. We seem to be complicit in acting as vehicles for the opinions and ideas of something outside of us to the extent that we will defend them in the face of opposition. That's it! That's all conflict breaks down to! To me it seems as though we are cars in a demolition derby and that we've let unknown drivers take control of us, ramming us into each other and creating all sorts of misery. I may have said too much already, so I'll stop here, but I invite you to listen to your own inner voices and see how they respond to all this, consciously observing that "Jeremy" did not necessarily come up with all this and that "you" are not necessarily the one articulating the response.

*On the Plane*

It is funny/frustrating for me to think about how quickly I can go from despair to acceptance on any given topic. The frustrating aspect is that it reveals the shaky, subjective nature of perspective. On the airplane right now is a nature show. Animals eating animals and the Earth, the Universe, and time finishing off the rest. Humans may yet destroy much of what they love about this world. Is that bad? Would it be less bad if it was a meteor that destroyed everything? It seems like some people need to go around raging at atrocities and some need to knowingly or unknowingly commit them. It is hard for me to find my place in this. What is worse about factory farming - that it causes unnecessary pain or that it shows a fundamental lack of respect? Maybe this lack of respect is the hub of atrocity? Native Americans are often portrayed as having an abiding and deep respect for their world. They still ate meat and warred, but in my romanticizing mind, it was coming from a more natural place. Or maybe just from a perspective that is more frequently seen mirrored in the natural world.

...

Current definition of Respect: the felt experience of recognizing others (plant, animal, mineral, ETC) as being of unique and fundamental value to the universe.

eternal issues ... blather blather

just watched treme, the new hbo show about new orleans after katrina, and it served to bring up once again, my personal issues with sense of community absence, and that the "general culture" I exist in is rather vapid and superficial. I have wrestled with this issue for a long time, and I'm not sure exactly how to accommodate it. Oftentimes I choose to ignore it, because it tends to fall, among many other things, into the category of "can't do shit about it, so don't stress" which i am successful at for the most part.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I feel as though I'm surrounded by a society that has its values out of whack, and because of this, the cultural vibrancy is practically null. I watch this presumably realistic depiction of a small New Orleans community, people who have, in essence, been left with very little, yet they have these traditions of placing value on thing I also value: good food, good music, and especially, camaraderie, which inevitably involves the previous two items.

And I can't help but feel like this is what so many of the "american romantic" novelists, beat poets, and those influenced by them, might be touching on when they talk about the american loneliness. We are without deep roots, and feel forced to constantly move, change, build, grow, progress. Obviously New Orleans is one of the few gems in our country that was able to cultivate such roots and use them to maintain such powerful connections.

But then I think about the fact that I'm not necessarily a traditionalist, and I don't necessarily like things to stay the same, so maybe I'm finding myself in a bit of a paradox. Maybe its essential to have roots and traditions in order for people to feel that level of deep connection. Then again, there also exists a deep sense of community in groups that feel outside the fold, or who are going against the grain.

I guess I'm not really able to articulate fully what I am blathering about (case in point!) Sometimes I think things like facebook and twitter are bringing people closer, but more often, I feel like its just the opposite. And I can't see myself jumping off the wagon, because then I'm in the dust, all alone. I just feel like we live rather hollow lives as a culture, and its only getting hollower. And I don't know what to do about it, or if I should even try. Or care. Perhaps zen is the truest answer, to "turn off the mind, relax, and float down stream" as lennon says via the tibetan book of the dead. but then i would need to live in the woods. ah whatever, there's no conclusion to be reached. only the abyss of the now : : : : : :