Re-post, Interesting, perhaps timely?
Hope all is well in your world as you read this.
Serendipitously, I chanced upon a recording I had made close to a year ago and re-heard it. Made sense so I thought I’d re-share it. It felt temporally appropriate.
The theme is the death of multi-culturalism at the sword of mono-culturalism. If you do give it a listen, pardon the hacks/coughs in the middle. I was swallowing insects on a hot summer evening, walking on my terrace as I recorded.
Click Link Below:
In other ABNEWS (that is my version of news as it should be, Above, Below, North, East, south and West), I’m back to working with an old and dear friend from my days in the Silly-Con valley. I got a message to go forth and do something mundane for a while, while all of the esoteric in-sights took their time to seep into my bones and then my marrow. I am thoroughly en-joying the interaction with the world again, warts and all.
I’ve started playing tennis again. Tennis, that injured me deeply, physically, because I swung at it like a hammer in-stead of a stilletoe. All thrust, no parry. I feel re-related with what all sport really ever meant to me.
Never about winning or losing per se, but about the most graceful projection of the self. Mattered not what the implement or the field was/is.
In the end, all of life, as lived out-wardly, is a projection of our inner-self, modulated by the instrument at hand, be it a racquet, a club, a hammer, a paint-brush….
And the lesson I’ve learned regarding all of that, is once again, the more deeply I am in touch with my-self, the more authentic is my projection.
Think positive does NOT cut it. The mind is a melange of influence-able potential. Our out-reach into the three dimensional world is a physical thing. The grace shown by the greats flows from the depth at which they wield their chosen instrument. The “Zone” is deep with-in.
And the other lesson is that we can never master an instrument. What folly. Every day my tempramental guitar is different. Every day the skin of my Djembe is taut in a different way. Every stroke and my racquets strings are a little more worn, a little looser. Every stroke, swing, pluck, pick is in a different world, as it were.
The only constant, if there is such a thing, and there is, deep with-in, is that self.
It reaches out with purity and effort-less-ness and grace every time. It’s our twisted filters of perception, deception and mental desire that make it’s final expression what it is.
Go deeper, every minute, because the journey is Un-finite. And it begins and advances with every step.
Here is to each of your IAM’s and your journey’s with-in.
In ruth-less dis-obedience.