Not dead yet

You are not dead yet, it's not too late
to open your depths by plunging into them
and drink in the life that reveals itself quietly there.
- Rilke

Out

I have spent hours
maybe days
definitely nights
curled up tight
protecting you.

The irony
How many times
have I heard
Let me in?
And I did.

Too far, too deep
buried something(s).

Tight little fists
enmeshed in battle
can't stop
endless bloodshed.

Tomorrow out.

Solace

The words of Holocaust survivor Viktor Frankl, describing a long march in the dead of winter through the death camps of Auschwitz:

'A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth - that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.

I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world may still know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when a man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way - an honorable way - in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life, I was able to understand the words, "The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.'

Unmoored

Today I want something different
maybe really good pizza
or a very deep sleep
or a warm rushing water walk.
I am unmoored
searching the horizon
but the horizon is busy, overpopulated.

From the assinine sterile beeping bed
she searches my eyes
looking for an anchor
afraid she is making waves.
Afraid she is painting
a picture of pain
that I will buy.

I want to tell her: Don't think.
just breathe, breathe deep
there is nothing else to do.
You can't protect me from reality
I'm already here, by choice
by habit.

Close your eyes, just breathe
and feel
You've always been good
at not denying pain.
Our roles are reversed again
I'll navigate and steer
over the waves of fear and pain
while you absorb the quiet.

Bare Bones Breathing

Desert stumbling
Tattered pale frail
Lonely tripping
Chasm ache

That quicksand quagmire
This endless bright hot dust

They're circling
Darker meaner tighter
Wide-eyed salivating
Blood heat

Careless shred slash gnash
Ravaged flurried white

Is it enough
Bare bones breathing

Eric Maisel YouTube interview

THE VAN GOGH BLUES; an interview with Eric Maisel

It's winter in the Midwest of the United States, and that can mean bleak, endless gray days that cast a lot of us into some form of depression. But according to Eric Maisel, PhD, the author of the book The Van Gogh Blues, actively making and maintaining meaning is the "creative person's path through depression" regardless of the time of year.

Below is an interview with the author, a San Francisco-based creativity coach who is the leading expert about the creative life and make-up of the creative person. The following interview is part of the "blog tour" for the paperback version of the book that just came out (click here for the interview about his last work, Ten Zen Seconds). See the tour schedule to read other interviews about The Van Gogh Blues -- some questions are repeated from interview to interview while others are unique to the blog on which they are posted.

Please tell us what The Van Gogh Blues is about.

For more than 25 years I’ve been looking at the realities of the creative life and the make-up of the creative person in books like Fearless Creating, Creativity for Life, Coaching the Artist Within, and lots of others. A certain theme or idea began to emerge: that creative people are people who stand in relation to life in a certain way—they see themselves as active meaning-makers rather than as passive folks with no stake in the world and no inner potential to realize. This orientation makes meaning a certain kind of problem for them—if, in their own estimation, they aren’t making sufficient meaning, they get down. I began to see that this “simple” dynamic helped explain why so many creative people—I would say all of us at one time or another time—get the blues.

To say this more crisply, it seemed to me that the depression that we see in creative people was best conceptualized as existential depression, rather than as biological, psychological, or social depression. This meant that the treatment had to be existential in nature. You could medicate a depressed artist but you probably weren’t really getting at what was bothering him, namely that the meaning had leaked out of his life and that, as a result, he was just going through the motions, paralyzed by his meaning crisis.

Are you saying that whenever a creative person is depressed, we are looking at existential depression? Or might that person be depressed in “some other way”?

When you’re depressed, especially if you are severely depressed, if the depression won’t go away, or if it comes back regularly, you owe it to yourself to get a medical work-up, because the cause might be biological and antidepressants might prove valuable. You also owe it to yourself to do some psychological work (hopefully with a sensible, talented, and effective therapist), as there may be psychological issues at play. But you ALSO owe it to yourself to explore whether the depression might be existential in nature and to see if your “treatment plan” should revolve around some key existential actions like reaffirming that your efforts matter and reinvesting meaning in your art and your life.

So you’re saying that a person who decides, for whatever reason, that she is going to be a “meaning maker,” is more likely to get depressed by virtue of that very decision. In addition to telling herself that she matters and that her creative work matters, what else should she do to “keep meaning afloat” in her life? What else helps?

I think it is a great help just to have a “vocabulary of meaning” and to have language to use so that you know what is going on in your life. If you can’t accurately name a thing, it is very hard to think about that thing. That’s why I present a whole vocabulary of meaning in The Van Gogh Blues and introduce ideas and phrases like “meaning effort,” “meaning drain,” “meaning container,” and many others. When we get a rejection letter, we want to be able to say, “Oh, this is a meaning threat to my life as a novelist” and instantly reinvest meaning in our decision to write novels, because if we don’t think that way and speak that way, it is terribly easy to let that rejection letter precipitate a meaning crisis and get us seriously blue. By reminding ourselves that is our job not only to make meaning but also to maintain meaning when it is threatened, we get in the habit of remembering that we and we alone are in charge of keeping meaning afloat—no one else will do that for us. Having a vocabulary of meaning available to talk about these matters is a crucial part of the process.

A main strategy to averting debilitating depression is simply to become aware of the concept that meaning does not exist until you make it and that it does not stay afloat unless you actively maintain it.

You mention that intimacy and personal relationships are as important to alleviating depression as are individual accomplishments. What is the link between the two and are they forged in similar ways?

It is important that we create and it is also important that we relate. Many artists have discovered that even though their creating feels supremely meaningful to them, creating alone does not alleviate depression. If it did, we would predict that productive and prolific creators would be spared depression, but we know that they have not been spared. More than creating is needed to fend off depression, because we have other meaning needs as well as the need to actualize our potential via creating. We also have the meaning need for human warmth, love, and intimacy: we find loving meaningful. Therefore we work on treating our existential depression in at least these two ways: by reminding ourselves that our creating matters and that therefore we must actively create; and by reminding ourselves that our relationships also matters, and that therefore we must actively relate.

Depression has many negative connotations. How might depression help bring to light issues that other more positive states of being may not?

It isn’t so much that depression brings to light these other states. It is rather that, at least at this point in the evolution of our species, to don the mantle of personal meaning maker, which is the righteous and proper thing to do, means that you look life squarely in the eye and do what it takes to manifest your potential and act as the hero of your own story—and by accepting all this you open the door for depression, since it can be depressing to see the truth about reality and depressing to struggle so hard to bring forth beauty and good works. The depression isn’t any kind of blessing or positive state, but it may be an inevitable by-product of our decision to live honorably.

Based on the premise that creative people inevitably will experience depression because they regularly experience doubts about the meaningfulness of their work, how might having a strong religious/spiritual faith both benefit and hinder the struggle to find and make meaning?

This is a tricky question for me because I am both an atheist and an anti-religionist who believes that god-talk is a betrayal of our common humanity. As soon as you inject that a god has told you something, you have trumped any rational discussion of a subject. Naturally, a believer may find it easier to avoid feelings of meaninglessness because he can take comfort in his beliefs and in this sense he may have an easier time maintaining meaning. To my mind, to make meaning is to accept that you are the sole arbiter of what is going to count as righteous and meaningful in your life.

How does The Van Gogh Blues tie in with other books that you’ve written?

I’m interested in everything that makes a creative person creative and I’m also interested in every challenge that we creative people face. I believe that we have special anxiety issues and I spelled those out in Fearless Creating. I believe that we have a special relationship to addiction (and addictive tendencies) and with Dr. Susan Raeburn, an addiction professional, I’ve just finished a book called Creative Recovery, which spells out the first complete recovery program for creative people. That’ll appear from Shambhala late in 2008. I’m fascinated by our special relationship to obsessions and compulsions and am currently working on a book about that. Everything that we are and do interests me—that’s my “meaning agenda”!

What might a person interested in these issues do to keep abreast of your work?

They might subscribe to my two podcast shows, The Joy of Living Creatively and Your Purpose-Centered Life, both on the Personal Life Media Network. You can find a show list for The Joy of Living Creatively here and one for Your Purpose-Centered Life here. They might also follow this tour, since each host on the tour will be asking his or her own special questions. Here is the complete tour schedule. If they are writers, they might be interested in my new book, A Writer’s Space, which appears this spring and in which I look at many existential issues in the lives of writers. They might also want to subscribe to my free newsletter, in which I preview a lot of the material that ends up in my books (and also keep folks abreast of my workshops and trainings). But of the course the most important thing is that they get their hands on The Van Gogh Blues!—since it is really likely to help them.

She said...

To make your unknown known — that's the important thing.
Georgia O'Keefe

You See I Want a Lot

You see, I want a lot.
Perhaps I want everything:
the darkness that comes with every infinite fall
and the shivering blaze of every step up.

So many live on and want nothing,
and are raised to the rank of prince
by the slippery ease of their light judgments.

But what you love to see are faces
that do work and feel thirst.
You love most of all those who need you
as they need a crowbar or a hoe.

You have not grown old, and it's not too late
to dive into your increasing depths
where life calmly gives out its own secret.

Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Robert Bly

New Slate

New year, new slate -- I didn't wipe the one from 2007 clean, I demolished it. Bring on 2008!

I've needed a place to post some of these links from the workshop mentioned below -- this blog is it.

This sound clip was sent to me in July -- scroll down to "Who Will Sing for the Nightingale." I first listened to it today; Deborah Henson-Conant is a genuis of a musician but also a phenomenal storyteller. Amazing how violence shapes our lives and sad how many of us can relate.

The video below was shot by L during one of our workshop sessions. I get chills every time I hear it. The riff is repeated over and over to facilitate focusing on embodying the riff as you play it. B is on violin -- and those high voices!! Probably Deborah and one or both of the Irish ladies. I'm on the natural finish harp near the end of the video.



I am distressed to learn that this year's workshop dates conflict with a wedding I'm scheduled to play on the night of the workshop's final performance -- the most important part!

A, one of the Irish ladies, performs a piece by Richard Thompson. Is there anything more beautiful?

And he said...

A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write -- if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What one can be, one must be.
Abraham Maslow

He said...

Music is the mediator between the spiritual and the sensual life.
Ludwig van Beethoven

Smaller big dreams

This simple photo has become a gauge for measuring personal growth over a period of months. Thanks, W, for capturing it for me. It's just starting to make sense how some of this year's experiences have perfectly positioned me for where I am now.

The quest for "my people" brought me to Maine earlier this summer to study with Deborah Henson-Conant (far right), a break-the-barriers harpist I have been following for over a decade. The workshop was intensely introspective, digging deep into how you want to show up as a performer, your relationship with the audience, and the nature of the work you want to bring to the world. Though very painful work at times (on so many levels!), it spurred the beginnings of a launch pad -- a foundation -- from (for me) virtually nothing. All the workshop participants, from all walks of life, became buoys for each other.

On my left (your right) in the hat is C -- I had the privelege of watching her receive an award at Lyon & Healy's Harpfest several weeks later in Utah for a performance she began crafting while we were in Maine. She showed up as her creative, authentic self -- she is a shining example of how great are the rewards when you expose your soul.

On my right (your left) is S -- we met in Maine and picked up and expanded upon our relationship in Utah. We consistently stayed up late discussing the details of the Jazz Harp Foundation that she and B had been formulating for months. At the official launch of the program at Harpfest, they announced their decision of my being the first member on the board of affiliates. We are working on expanding the foundation whose really beautiful tagline reads: "enriching the harp world with jazz and the jazz world with harp." More news soon on the very important work we are doing.

It was in Maine that I first exposed some compositions that I have been working on. There is nothing more terrifying than pushing out personal work into the world when any or all factors are present; 1) your personal / emotional world is a swirling chaotic nightmare, 2) you're in the company of other very accomplished musicians who know your instrument inside and out, 3) you're in the company of one whose work you have admired for years. Nevertheless, I received the validation I've desperately needed and never before experienced as I muddled through my presentation.

I have always wanted to perform with Deborah Henson-Conant --
pulling together final performance details.

Nova Madrugada -- 11/02/07 performance

November 2, 2007 Nova Madrugada performance at the Columbus Music Hall.

Columbus hosted the Percussive Arts Society International Conference (PASIC) the weekend of our performance, so we were blessed with the opportunity to have a number of attendees sit in with us. Two of them are pictured in the left of the photo, next to Columbus' own Debra Tucker, an amazing singer.

The remaining five, from left to right, are the regulars in our group, minus our saxophone player Mark Donavan -- Ron Hope (percussion) in the back, Roger Hines (bass), Stan Smith (guitar), me (harp), and Dan Thress (drums). Thanks to all who came out!

Sparks will fly

Earlier this year the shop had to replace a good part of my car's exhaust system, and they were kind enough to reuse what they could... which of course included the catalytic converter that just last week decided to go bad. From my perch in the shop I watched as they worked to undo what they had carefully crafted just months before. A young man lit up the torch and tore into it. No goggles, no gloves, no mask, no headgear, no chainmail, no body armour. Did the bits of fire inches from his face and arms inflict any damage? Apparently not -- he stepped into the shop office moments later perfectly intact, able to have the necessary conversation with the visiting insurance agent about health coverage.

What looked precarious to me was perfectly safe to him -- he knew his limits. Digging in with vigor and certainty.

This past weekend my brother turned 30. I am curious about who might feel older as a result of this -- he or I. As an older sister I marvel at all he has accomplished; married with a house, a job in research secured quickly aftering acquiring his PhD, tearing out and now finishing a garage he built from the ground up -- all this just in the past year and a half. He has a thousand goals and goes after them with incredible energy and focus.

He's returning to music to balance his daily massive intellectual output. In honor of that, his wife and I carved and decorated a guitar cake from two 9 x 13" chocolate cakes, and she bestowed upon him all the equipment and resources necessary for getting back into the game. A guitar on fire -- greatly symbolic for my brother, I think. Look out.

The wedding I played that day was anything but fire. The minister said separately to both bride and groom, "S___, I think since the day you were born your heart was on tiptoe, whispering, where's S____?" (Yes, each had the first intials of "S"). There was no rush in this ceremony, no hurry, just perfect reverence for the experience they've waited a lifetime for. And candles. Thus the dark picture.

The barrage of harp pictures in this blog is part of a bigger project to overhaul my website. The vision remains in my head, waiting to be extracted. Just like the artwork whose deadline is this weekend. This Friday is our Nova Madrugada performance. Look out.

A little night music

I used to live in a room full of mirrors;
all I could see was me.
I take my spirit and I crash my mirrors,
now the whole world is here for me to see.
Jimi Hendrix

The new Radiohead is out via download only. Listening to it makes one feel that by simply raising one's arms and heart, flying is entirely possible (especially Reckoner).

All wrapped up in one weekend, or rather, one night:
Maggie Green's CD release party
Elisa Nicolas' CD release party
A discussion about the future of Nova Madrugada
Brasiliera at Dick's Den
Running into G at Dick's after working together as volunteers for the WCBE NPR fund drive
Running into the folks from Limestone Vale
Running into the owner of Espresso Yourself Music Cafe
Talking real life with R

A night wedding at Franklin Park Conservatory -- starry lights and candles and jazz harp.

Yes, this is really happening

Today marks the last of my outdoor wedding harp jobs until next spring. This time of year in Ohio means the temperature could be... anything. I always prefer warm over cold, and today was a hot one with record temperatures. Finding shade to play in is not an act of luxury, it's a necessity for both the instrument and the performer. The first wedding was on the OSU campus -- can you tell by the picture? It was a scarlet and gray wedding, complete with the OSU marching band practicing somewhere in the distance and another sport's happenings being announced across the road. The music on the stand is opened to "Carmen Ohio."

The second wedding had an amazing sound system setup... positioned right over my shoulder. The dog in this ceremony behaved himself nicely. Oh the stories of ceremonies I've played!


In between weddings I had a Rice Dream Chocolate Pie.

Last night I attended a concert by Christine Kane, thanks to tickets I won from WCBE, our outstanding local NPR station. As soon as she started to play you forgot it was just Christine and her guitar. Since she has different tunings for each song, she uses the time between each to tune and talk about life. The audience was captivated. Why? Because she is real.

Somewhere in the middle of the concert I felt incredibly validated as a woman, as a performer, and as a creative, sensitive soul. In her presence, our life struggles don't look like struggles at all -- they are experiences loaded with opportunities to grow if you keep your eyes wide open. I get this in theory, but remembering it is another story. This is simply how it is. There is not "what am I supposed to be doing?" You are already doing it.

Christine also leads workshops (the ways I relate to this woman are seemingly endless). I visited the website of where they are held. Smack on the home page was... a blue heron.

Exploring her website further, I found this:
I am discerning and care-full about how I eat. It is a top priority for me, even when I’m on the road. For your average person, this is just too much trouble. For someone who has had an eating disorder, this is just routine. I keep up a regimen of regular health care, regular exercise, and I take more time than most people to prepare great meals and eat them in a relaxed environment.

There is a lot about this for me. Maybe for another post. An area I'm curious about -- Christine gives some very compelling personal arguments for giving up dairy.

And this:
I will probably continue other practices no matter what. I pay out of pocket for acupuncture. I pay higher prices for organic locally grown food. I take extra time for meals. In our speed and efficiency-driven society with all of its social expectations, this is not a popular route. So be it. I spent way too many years trying to keep up with all of this stuff and contort myself to fit society’s values. Once I created my own and stuck with them - miracle of miracles - I found happiness.

YES. There are so many places to go from here. I continue to have such revealing conversations with other women about finding our place in the world.

And all this ON TOP OF her incredible music!!

Mystic without a monastery

From today's newsletter by Caroline Myss:

"I believe that to be a 'mystic without a monastery' is a new 'soul's calling', in the same way that people were once called to the new spiritual path of Buddhism and Christianity. We've had fifty years of exploring this new age human consciousness movement, and it's not new anymore. It's middle-aged and needs to mature into a stronger and more dynamic spiritual and social force on this planet. Instead of making people withdraw from the world, to constantly seek their quiet little cabins in the woods and focus on their own healing endlessly, it's time for the generation of mature souls to emerge who can live in both worlds simultaneously - who can be of service to humanity and maintain their contemplative, private life."

Blue Heron

Every day I try to take an hour walk on the country roads around where I live -- it is the best remedy to qualm the anxiety caused by too many spinning thoughts and ideas and desires. In the middle of my walk, I am on a road that runs along the river, and I have finally achieved some sort of clarity about what's on my mind. I look up, though never at the same spot on the river. Almost always, standing straight and tall in the middle of it is a Great Blue Heron.

It's not as if the heron is a vivid blue, or is doing something to catch my attention. It is just THERE, right where I look, almost waiting for me, looking regal and tall and strong.



(Borrowed picture as I never have my camera with me on the walk).

Valid or not, this bird has become a sort of symbol of reassurance and confirmation. When I stop to gaze at it, for a moment we are both frozen there, and then it lifts it's giant wings and takes flight. The grace and power with which it does this is breathtaking.

Today I was driving home from errands and took another river road. Another perplexing thought was on my mind. I happened to glance over to the river and to my surprise I instantly picked out a blue heron, flying effortlessly in the same direction at the same speed I was driving. You can bet I am going to take action on what was on my mind at the time.

Spinning (again)

So much is happening so fast. I'm just hoping I'm absorbing it all.

I am mesmerized by the music of Bat for Lashes. I cannot believe I didn't go to the show last night. This woman lives her dreams every day (listen to "Horse and I") -- every haunting, moving, aching dream...

I'm reading the excellent book The Not So Big Life by Sarah Susanka (see blog link under "Other Blogs"). Susanka is an architect who writes about home as a sacred place, a location and space for personal expression, pared down to the essentials where every aspect of your surroundings is deeply meaningful. This book is rife with ideas about living authentically.

Today I had a conversation with CG about sorting through the amazing opportunities that life presents on a daily basis -- right now they are coming at me fast and furious. Am I making the right choices? She mentioned the work of Andrew Harvey, who suggests waking at 3 am and asking what makes your heart bleed, makes every part of you ache, what makes you angry -- this is where your life purpose lies. His idea of spiritual activism entails taking action now as the times almost demand it -- really do something versus, for example, meditating about it. We are so often told to go after the things that make you happy, your wonderful joyous dreams. We are taught to turn away from what touches the most tender part of ourselves.

Susanka includes a quote from Rumi in her book: "There is one thing in this world you must never forget to do. Human beings come into this world to do particular work. That work is their purpose, and each is specific to the person. If you forget everything else and not this, there's nothing to worry about. If you remember everything else and forget your true work, then you will have done nothing with your life."