Walking the Labyrinth

Passing through downtown Santa Fe, I walked my first labyrinth at St. Francis Cathedral Basilica.  The tradition of walking labyrinths dates back farther than 20,000 years, and I've always been curious about the experience.  

As I made my way through the repetitious twists and turns, I lost all sense of time and was consumed by an overwhelming sense of presence.  It was all I could do to focus on each step. Looking forward or behind made me dizzy.  And with every intention being on my next step, there was no room for my mind to wander in thought.  

The walkers were of all ages.  We kept time and step with each other, all walking one path, to the heart of the labyrinth and back out again.  

Looking from the outside, it seems a bit daunting--the circles encircled by circles connected by passageways.  I had mistakenly thought it was like a "maze."  But that is not true.  There is one lone path.  And on it, you are never lost--for it all leads to the same place and back out again.  

Very symbolic of life.  It is no wonder people have walked labyrinths for centuries both in grief and celebration...a communal portal to "being."  I would've thought that in the last 20,000 years, we would have some how evolved to have that "being" down by now...but in our multi-tasking, cyber-searching and cell phone talking, it's so easy to walk along dazed in the buzzing and beeping and ringing and clicking.  It seems we still need a tool to help transport us into the moment.  

And thus, the medicine of the labyrinth...walking the twists and turns, passing through the ebb and flow, a sense of togetherness, each step in presence...a sacred ritual and human-made passageway, mimicking the patterns of nature, leading us "home."

Communing in the Muse-ic

It takes a village to build a music career. 

(L to R: Mary, DD, Amber, Michelle, & Nancy) 

Here's the Tucson-gang post our (or my) performance at Weststock (Woodstock re-hashed at the Westward Look Resort in the desert, as opposed to Yasgur's Farm).  I got the privilege of being the "folk-singer" for the evening, which seemed to be quite the appropriate title since I got to sing and share music with a bunch of "folks".  

Speaking of "folks", the picture above is of the "folks" who travel with me from the West to the East, coming to my shows, hauling my gear, air-brushing t-shirts, selling tickets, hanging posters, and memorializing the musical journey through their time and talent creating art, photography and videography.  

I am continually amazed at the community that muse-ic brings together.  

Is it the common vision? Is it a metaphysical phenomenon--everyone connecting through the vibration of melody, harmony and rhythm?  Music transcends time, distance and language. A good song survives through decades, and ancient drumming seems to course through our most primal vein. Tones and rhythmic vibrations can inspire deep meditation and healing. We use music, song and chanting in our diverse spiritual practices.  Sound waves have the potential to travel into infinity.  

What type of butterfly effect(s) do we create through our sound, through our music?   

We, as a human species, seem to be drawn to it (the music, that is); and in cases like me, I crave it.  I used to think it was an obsession.  But now I realize that it's my way of commune-icating, sharing my soul and making a path in this world.   

As I learned folk songs from the 60's, I realized that a lot of them incorporated minor keys such as Em and Am.  Communing with songs of the past allowed me to feel a connection to the artists who created them, almost like a sacred communion through time and space.  The messages are Universal - struggle, hope, war, release, and faith that one day "we shall overcome."  

I find it very interesting that the Native American flutes are also created in minor keys.  It seems that this type of "sound" resonates very deeply on a soul level.  This "sound" seems to symbolize all those Universal feelings and messages that the folk-singers of the 60's commune-icated, the same themes that still run through our society today.

For thousands of years, humans (folks) have been brought together by creating muse-ic through drumming, tones, melodies and chanting in cadence.  

Maybe it was our first language...before the spoken word.  And maybe it still is the primary language of creatures like whales, birds, wolves and crickets.

Obviously, we crave that sense of community and communion--Commune-icating through tones, rhythm, and messages in cadence.  Through this, we open to each other. And somehow, the music connects us ("folks") in a way that transcends the illusion of separation - whether it be differing viewpoints, cultures or lifestyles.  

That was the magic of the original Woodstock.  500,000 people.  Not enough water, food or bathroom facilities. Everyone had to work together for a common purpose.  

And amidst the weekend of communing in hardship, there was music...and there was peace.  

I am honored to be on this path.  And I am honored to be part of this community--as we strive to open our hearts, connect with each other and build commune-ity through the muse-ic.

Emerging

I love Spring...The return of sun. Days growing longer. Bright yellow sage flowers and the  brilliant orange of Ocotillo blooms emerging.  The chatter of birds growing louder.  Doves flirting with each other upon  brick walls; and the quail preparing their low-bush spring hide-outs awaiting new family members.  The turkey vultures are back, the hawks are pairing up, and the lizards have crawled out of their holes.  There is enough warmth to stir the movement of cold-blooded creatures and coax Spring out of her winter slumber. 

Dancing in the Grey

It's winter in the desert.  Snowy mountains, temperatures dipping into the low 30's in the evening.  Rainy, windy, grey days.  All a good sign that the slowly melting snow on the mountains in the Spring may raise the draught-stricken water table.  

I like the cool and the calm.  It's definitely different than the summer months that are filled with 100+ degree (F) temps, road rage and buzzing insects.  The vibration is lower.

Yet, amidst the cold and the grey, the hummingbirds still dance in joy over winter nectar...a daily celebration of sweetness and abundance.  

A meaningful dollar

At a coffee shop show a few weeks ago, a man got up after one of my tunes, dug into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.  He looked at me and said, "I don't have much, but I want to give this to you."  I remember wondering as I saw him sitting there, if he lived on the street.  I could tell by his appearance that he didn't "have much."  My first instinct when he pulled out that dollar bill was to say, "no, please keep it."  

But I didn't.  

I realized that this may be one of the most meaningful dollars that I would ever receive.  It came with intention and from the heart of someone who truly wanted to show his appreciation.  And, why would I want to reject a gift that someone so earnestly wanted to give?  That would be egotistical and judgmental of me, and it would stop the flow of energy.

One of things that I've been learning in this musical journey is about the circle of energy.  The giving and the receiving.  The opening.  The letting out of what I have to offer and the letting in of those who receive and appreciate the offering.  It's a lesson in opening and connection, meaning and intention.  

And sometimes it feels like a direct line to Divinity.

the in-between

The time of in-between.  The lingering light of a setting sun.  Domingo Batista, a phenomenal photographer from the Dominican Republic, calls the in-between the "tiempo de luz" or the time of light.  He told me that during the dusk and dawn, many souls pass from this life to the next.  He also said that these moments are the best time of day to capture a photograph.

Indeed, something about this time of in-between feels peaceful and resonates on a deep level.  I must not be the only one to experience it, as I see many fellow "believers" of the in-between heading to the canyon, the beach, or the hill to catch the changing light of sunset and sunrise on film or in their memories. Maybe we're all drawn to the beauty, possibility and magic of the in-between.

The orange hue of the setting sun reminds me of the fading light of a glowing ember.  Staring at the dwindling glow on a candle wick, I am reminded that energy is never lost, it is only transformed.  

Recently, my extended family has experienced significant tragedy and death.  These are the painful parts of life's journey--what we inherited with our incarnation and the tough lessons of love.  Such things, especially when they feel so out of control and tragic, cause a huge upheaval and toss us directly into the flames of the in-between.  

Each moment is a crossroads per se, an opportunity to act, love and be as authentic as possible...so that in the end (or maybe the beginning), we cross through the fire of the in-between with no regrets.  

And who knows what we will emerge from the smoke as...

for the butterfly is well-aware of the importance of the in-between.

earthshine

Here's a little amber-perspective of the moon tonight as I walked the dogs at sunset.  I love the winter season in the desert.  The dark looming night sky, Orion with his bright star-lit belt perched above me, and the glorious sight of "earthshine" on the crescent moon.  Just a little reminder that light emerges from the darkness, and that it knows no boundaries...

During this season in Alaska, the Northern Lights blaze green over the white horizon.  And instead of Orion, the 7 bright stars of the Big Dipper shine in plain sight in the middle of the night sky.  It's dog-mushing time there.  One's breath crystallizes in the air, and the winter moon reflects the sun's bedtime light upon snowy land.

Down here, I have to scan the edge of the northern sky to find the faintly lit Big Dipper on the horizon.  

It's just a little change in perspective...

Not enough though, to change the way the water swirls down the toilet.  Speaking (or writing) of which, someday I hope to make it to the Southern Hemisphere so I can experience the magnetic pull of the south pole first hand.  I'm wondering if, like swirling toilet water, it would change my dreams at night--maybe they would go backwards, like a video rewinding in my head.  

On that tangent, I got a new video camera for Christmas (thanks, Mom & Dad!!).  When I make it South, I'll bring it with me, and video the toilet water swirling down the drain the opposite direction that it does on my hemisphere.  And then, of course, post it on YouTube.  

We're almost like 'light' these days, quickly losing (transcending?) boundaries amidst the surging waves of technology.  Definitely, our cyber-travels, satellites and cell phone towers are weaving us together beyond what once were geographical boundaries.

Another change in perspective...  

And now we know the Earth is round, and that us Earthlings walk on a planet that orbits the Sun.  Back in the day, I might have been scared to cross the hemispheres, fearing the edge (and never have known about the physics of swirling toilet water); or I would've been a believer of heliocentrism and my head would have been on someone's chopping block.  

Either way, it's nice to be in the 21st Century where knowledge is power...

At least, for people like me who have access to it and live in a society that values freedom and diversity.

One day, maybe that perspective will change too.

On this beautiful Winter's Eve, with the light from the Southern Hemisphere reflected on the other side of the crescent moon that I see lingering above the southwestern horizon (from my perspective, of course :-)...I wish you peace and light.