Category Archives: Music

Trees

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When I was a little girl, we had square brown music box with a picture of a boy and girl on the front.  When I pulled the string, a lovely little tune played as the string wound back into the box. It hung in our laundry room and I would often pull it as I went though there into the garage. I remember my mother telling me the song was called Trees. She had a sheet music version of it and would often sing it in her beautiful soprano voice.

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

This sweet and sentimental poem was first published in 1913 and quickly became popular and subsequently turned into an equally sweet and sentimental song. I remember seeing the author’s name on the music, Joyce Kilmer, a unique name for a man. This poet, theologian and orator’s life was tragically cut short in World War 1 at the age of 31. Joyce lived a full life in such a short time, leaving many writings and a family of five children. He was on his way to becoming an influential theologian but is best remembered for his deeply spiritual poem about trees.

This classic poem came alive for me last week as I went for a hike in the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in North Carolina, a portion of the Natahala National Forest dedicated to Joyce’s memory.  The trail is a couple of hours from my house and some of my dear hiking friends and I headed there on a cool and misty November morning. It is a long and very curvy journey through the mountains on the infamous “Tail of the Dragon” – a stretch of road 11 miles long with 318 curves and greatly loved by motorcyclists from around the world.  But this day we were the only ones on the slick road covered with downed branches from the previous night’s storm.  It is a beautiful drive with vistas of the Smoky Mountains, lakes surrounded by mountains, and lots of beautiful trees. 

The Joyce Kilmer Memorial is a small section of remaining old-growth forest, many of the trees are exceptionally tall for this part of the country. There is a delightful two-mile loop over a couple of streams and along mossy rocks to the quiet giants that were much older than Joyce’s poem and had probably looked at God all day for a couple of centuries. During the hike we had a few glimpses of blue sky but mostly the forest was shrouded in the mists of winter.  I took my time and enjoyed the childhood memories of the music box and my mother singing.  Nothing makes me happier than a wander through trees, no matter the season or the weather. The great cathedral of nature becomes a living prayer.

I never like leaving the forest, but it was time for lunch, so we all happily went up the road to Tapoco Lodge, which was all decked in Christmas spirit. Warmed by a fire and hot cider, we had a wonderful lunch and then headed back through the 318 curves to our homes.  It was a delightful day and a wonderful adventure and that really embodied the spirit of the Christmas season. Joyce gave the ultimate sacrifice but left behind words of joy as his living legacy.

Gemmi sleeping under the library tree

This, the darkest time of year, we bring living trees into our home to bring light in the darkness, evergreen life into our lives to remind us that the sun will come back. Decorated and sparkling trees become the center of the celebration of life, family and joy. Over the years I have added many Christmas trees to my house so that I can have the glowing light in every corner of the front of my house to beckon my friends and family who visit for the holidays. First thing in the morning, I light the tree in the warm family room and the candles in the kitchen to bring a soft glow for my morning coffee and warm snuggles with the cats. This is my little kitten Gemmi’s first Christmas and she is delighted with the endless supply of toys hanging from the tree.  Joyce’s poem about trees maybe sentimental but it speaks of the joy we a carry in our hearts this time of year as we gather round the evergreen trees of Christmas.

A Dickens’ Christmas Carol themed post on my new blog—go to www.thetimelesstarot.com

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Ahknaten

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The last trip I took in 2019, just before the beginning of the pandemic, was an arts weekend with Alexandra in New York City.  It was a quick trip into the city but we had a big agenda.  The Metropolitan Opera was performing one of our favorite operas, Akhnaten by Phillip Glass.  Words fail me;  it is so amazing. I always love being in that iconic opera house with the best musicians in the world, from around the world.  Fast forward to 2022, The Met Opera was performing Akhnaten again and you know since we are now officially groupies (very enthusiastic followers) that we had to repeat our trip of 2019 except for a longer visit and with warmer weather.

This was our third arts trip to NYC. Alexandra dearly loves the Big Apple and during college spent a semester and a summer interning and learning her way around.  I’ve had just a few short visits, but with Alexandra’s city smarts and a free place to stay (thanks to my sister), we’ve decided to have an annual arts trip.  There are plenty of fun and interesting things to do in NYC and something for everyone. But we have a particular interest in opera, ballet and art museums so we concentrate on those things. Plus some food/restaurants not available in my small town—real French croissants–yum.

We wanted to make up for the couple of years without live performances, so we made an ambitious itinerary to fit in everything we wanted to do.  I went up early with a friend and saw Akhnaten on Wednesday and several museums.  Alexandra joined me Thursday and we went to the New York City Ballet’s production of Midsummer’s Night Dream.  I got very close seats and we enjoyed the nuances of each dance.  The production was pure fantasy, the costumes were extravagant and sparkly and the new principal dancers were polished and gifted. We wished we had tickets to see it again just to delight in the beauty.

Temple of Dendur The Metropolitan Museum of Art. 15BCE Aswan, Egypt

But Saturday afternoon was the main event, Akhnaten.  So why am I so obsessed with this opera?  Well, first I just love Phillip Glass’s music: minimal, repetitive and hypnotic.  It puts me in a decidedly altered state, a reverie that calms my soul and opens my heart. Second, you know how I’m obsessed with ancient Egypt and this reimagine of a Pharaoh who first changed the world from polytheism to monotheism—we are still living in his influence today.  Needless to say, he was not popular with those who wanted power and was wiped from the record books after his death. I encourage you to read about this remarkable Pharaoh. Akhnaten believed there was only one god, The Sun, Aten.  My favorite part of the opera is The Hymn to the Aten, words written by Akhnatan, 3500 years ago. Always sung in the language where the opera is performed, the words are of love and dedication to the Divine.  “You are in my heart, There is no other who knows you, Only your son, Whom you have taught your ways and your might.”  As the hymn of praise finishes, Akhnaten slowly turns and becomes one with The Sun hanging low over the stage. It is one of my favorite moments in all of opera.   The staging, singing, story and music all culminates in a grand spectacle, and I just love it.  It will be several years before I have the opportunity to see it live again but the recorded version is on the Met Opera on Demand and I highly recommend taking the time to enter this remarkable portal into another time/space of ancient Egypt.

Cleopatra’s Needle–Central Park- 1500BCE Heliopolis, Egypt

Alexandra and I wanted more, so we purchased cheap seats in the 4th balcony for the evening performance of Rigoletto by Verdi, a much more traditional opera but equally delightful in classic opera style.  The cheap seats kept us from seeing the singers’ faces and costumes but the sound was crystal clear and beautiful. This was our second time to do two operas in one day and we would do it again.  With a nice dinner in-between, it just seems like a perfect day to us.

 

4th Balcony at the Met Opera—A long way from the stage but excellent sound.

We finished our time in NYC with more of The Metropolitan Museum, concentrating on the European paintings and some time on the lawn in Central Park soaking in the perfect late spring weather. I was a bit worried that I had scheduled a bit too much time in the big city for this country girl but in fact I enjoyed every minute of my visit dedicated to the arts in so many forms. 

This was my personal way to spend time with what inspires my soul and fills my heart.  Now I hope to encourage you to take time and do what inspires your joy and restores your heart. The world seems extra full of bad news and problems right now on top of two years of pandemic.  We all seem to have our faith in humanity shaken to the core.  But now more than ever, we need to find and do what restores our hope and fills us with the best of what humans can do as a reprieve from some of the worst actions. When I go to opera and ballet, I’m reminded of the amazing gifts that we have to produce what is good, noble and beautiful.  When I go to an art museum, I’m reminded of the thousands of years of genius that shines through the hardship of life on this planet. 

Star of India, world’s largest blue star sapphire-American Museum of Natural History
Original Audubon watercolor–New York Historical Society

“Friends” Apartment Building–Greenwich Village

Rachmaninoff

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Rachmaninoff

photo by panoramia.com     Rachmaninoff Statue, Knoxville TN

This month I have combined and updated two blog posts from 2013.

Knoxville Tennnessee doesn’t have many claims to fame but it does have a few notable events in its history, the 1982 World’s Fair, the moonshine running roots of Nascar, the home town of a few celebrities and authors. There is one event that has always been important to me, the great Russian composer and pianist Sergei Rachmaninoff played his final concert at the University of Tennessee Alumni Gym 76 years ago. He died a few weeks later in California.

I helped my friend Jane, a fellow music lover, organize a concert to commemorate this great composer on the same stage and date of his final concert. February 17, Evgheny Brakhman an award-winning pianist from Russia played an all Rachmaninoff concert in the Cox Auditorium. I went to the 50th anniversary concert in 1993 before the new auditorium was built. In the audience were a dozen or so people who had attended that final concert 50 years before.

Rachmaninoff and his beautiful music have been a part of my life since I was a little girl. My piano teacher saw Rachmaninoff play in Chattanooga and would tell me stories of that experience. When I got accomplished enough I was required to learn the famous Prelude in C# minor, a devilishly difficult piece that took months to learn and required my long fingers to play large, complicated chords. I can still play the first few measures by memory.

The Friday after 9/11 I had symphony tickets to hear Rachmaninoff’s masterpiece the 2nd Piano Concerto. The Russian pianist Alexander Toradze drove down to play the concert since there were no planes allowed to fly. It was a somber audience that night. The orchestra first played Barber’s Adagio for Strings in memory of the tragedy. During the spectacularly beautiful second movement of the 2nd piano concerto I felt my personal sorrow healed. I will never forget that evening and the healing music gifted to me by the great composer and pianist.

It is popular to say in spiritual circles “we all are intuitive”. Yes, that is true, but that is like saying we can all play the piano. Everyone can play chopsticks, some can play hymns, others can play sonatas but only a very few gifted individuals can play Rachmaninoff. When you come across the teachers and intuitives who are “Rachmaninoffs” your world is changed forever by the mastery and beauty they bring to your life.

The concert to mark the 70th anniversary of his final concert was an outstanding success. The auditorium which holds 1000 was overflowing and many had to stand in the back. The excitement of this historic event was palpable and the pianist, Evgeny Brakhman, played with enormous talent and deep love and understanding of his idol’s music. The room was electric with the immense beauty and appreciation for art at its highest level.

My father-in-law, John, was a patron of the concert, but unfortunately he died the day before the concert from pneumonia after emergency surgery. At the concert he was honored and it made the evening all the more poignant for his family and friends. Once again Rachmaninoff’s music brought healing and solace for me during this sad time.

Beauty was everywhere in John’s life. Raised on a small farm in southern Mississippi during the depression, survival was what life was about, but education was important to the family and he worked hard and went to Medical school. He was a typical Taurus and loved land and home. Although he had a wonderful career, his home and farm were his deepest love. He nurtured his place on earth for 60 years, restoring his home and tending the land. He said to me just last fall, “I can’t believe I get to live in a place this beautiful.”

John and my mother-in-law Dusty had a deep appreciation for all things beautiful, fine books, well made clothes, beautiful music and wonderful food. They lived a beautiful life and they passed this love to all who were part of their lives, introducing them to fine art and music and gracious southern living.

Dusty can no longer remember her beautiful life after many years of dementia but her family is making sure the she still lives with the grace of a “Southern Belle”. A coal-miner’s daughter from Kentucky, she also improved her station in life through education and an appreciation of beauty. She was very social and found an outlet for her enthusiasm at the Knoxville Opera and it is through her influence that I have become a great opera lover. Dusty brought beauty into the lives of her granddaughters by gifting them violin and ballet lessons.

Beauty is the greatest way to raise your vibration and level of spiritual development. The great composers, artists, architects, writers and poets knew how to touch the Divine and bring it to the human level. The beauty of our planet is stunning; mountains, oceans, lakes, trees, flowers and animals. Beauty is all around. Everyday find something of beauty and let it bring you closer to “Heaven on Earth”.

Gifts

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As we enter the traditional season for giving, I am reminded that gifts are always a part of the journey, on a pilgrimage and in daily life.   All you have to do is become aware the abundance of life and open your heart to receiving these gifts so freely given.  I offer these three gifts for this holiday season.  Gifts to give yourself and then in turn give to others.
Joy:   The poet Leon Bloy says, “Joy is the most infallible sign of the presence of God”.   Finding joy, living joy, sustained joy are the moments the pilgrim has put down their burdens, worries, sorrow and let the light of the Divine show through to your life.   This is a moment of transformation where just being alive and open hearted is all there needs to be.   On the Camino I had the experience of sustained joy where just walking and being in nature made every breath a thank-you.

Silence:  In our noisy world we don’t find much silence and if you do happen to encounter it most people find it uncomfortable and immediately fill the void with more talking or scrolling.   Silence is where you take time from our frenetic world.   You can’t hear the voice of your heart and the Divine if you are talking or distracted.   Practice sacred silence as you move into sacred space.   Take time to sit in silent wonder and just be with the experience.   You need time to be without distraction to connect your being to your special place on earth.   Before and after visiting a special place give yourself the gift of coming into silence so you can prepare, receive and then integrate this experience.

Music:   Music is part of spiritual practice in all traditions, hymns, chants, toning and other types of music that enhances your personal experience.   As always these should not affect the experience of others near you or the nature of the site.   Sing a song in your mind, quietly chanting, listening to a song on an iPod can greatly enhance your experience.   I like to link a specific song with a specific place or experience.    Sometimes I have chosen that song ahead of time, sometimes I let the shuffle setting choose the song, sometimes I like to have a song spontaneously come into my mind.      When a song is sung or listened to at a site the song is then imprinted on your energy at that site.   In the future when you hear that song then you can be instantly transported back to that place and time.   It is a way of being part of that place forever.   In the cathedral in Burgos, Spain during a Mass in English the congregation sang a hymn I learned as a child.   I sang the words that I knew but hadn’t thought of for decades.   Now my voice is forever in the stones of that chapel.

Secrets of a Healing Garden

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Guest post by valarie budayr

Nothing shows the journey of life better than a garden with its seasonal cycles of blooming and rebirth. For children who are victims of physical and sexual abuse and trauma the healing/therapy garden at New Hope is a welcome retreat as a place of healing and renewal.

New Hope Healing Garden is a private garden retreat for children, care givers, first responders, staff and therapists

The New Hope Therapy Garden is a private outdoor garden space that has been specifically designed to meet the physical, psychological, social and emotional needs of the children using New Hope and its resources as well as their caregivers, family members, friends, and staff as a place to re-connect with their well being and heal the invisible wounds of current and post-traumatic stress.

The design is to inspire play through nature exploration, nature and gardening care, and imagination. Throughout the whole garden we engage the child through various textures, sounds, imagination and interaction. It instills awe and wonder, and invites anyone to come in, look, listen, and see what grabs your curiosity.

Welcome to our Garden ~

The Singing Hopscotch Path


We enter the garden via the numbered circled path. There are two ways to use the path. The first is by hopping as in playing hopscotch. The next way of using the path is to sing. Each colored marker on the path makes us stop and sing a first line of a song such as Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Both hopping and singing are ways to enter the present moment, the here and now. We have to concentrate really hard to hop on one foot and then the other. It’s a relief to be able to stop with both feet on two numbers. It doesn’t leave a lot of room for outside thoughts to run inside our minds. Singing also achieves the same thing. We can only sing one note at a time. It takes full concentration and our full breath. We need to sing the correct pitch, have enough air in our lungs and move to the next note in the song as well as sing the correct words. The pathway is an indicator that we are transitioning from the world out there, that at times isn’t so nice, to the safety of the garden where we will explore, experience, and embrace nature through play. Everything that happens in the garden, happens only in the present moment, the now. The experience of the garden opens up new possibilities and new ways of seeing things.

Flower Planters


Just in front of the parking lot are four moveable garden planters. These have been planted with a variety of flowers which once cut come back again. Such flowers are zinnias, calendula, marigolds, nasturtiums etc., as well as, herbs. All of the flowers and herbs in the planters will be used for nature play in the Nature House and in the Fairy Forest.
The flower planters are also away for the children to take the watering cans, and trowels and personally help care for the garden by watering and weeding. Both child and therapist while weeding, watering, or picking flowers can have those very important conversations that foster healing.

Sunflower House
Each Spring a 6 x 9 house will be created completely out of several sunflower varieties.
Children love hideaways to play in and view the outside world without being seen. The sunflower house is such a place to sit and create flower and nature mandalas, rake a zen garden, or sit an enjoy the world around them as birds fly in and out and squirrels scamper up and down the trees. It’s a place to feel protected, ponder and create.

Fairy Forest

Using only natural materials such as sticks, shells, stones, leaves, pinecones, acorns etc, we create fairy houses. There is no right or wrong way, only natural materials can be used. No nails, glues, twine or string. Building a natural fairy houses instills the idea of being able to fix things that one doesn’t like. We can create something enchanting by using our imaginations and by creating with what nature gives us.

The Fairy Forest instills the idea of impermanence that something may not be there forever but we can rebuild with what is left over and what new things we can pick up from around the fairy forest to build with.

Therapists also share the idea that they can create a safe house in the Fairy Forest and build what that looks like.

House by house, the forest fills until one day we come upon an entire village. There are two old trees in the garden and the stretch of land between the left hand tree, the bird bath/water play area and the tree on the right hand side will encompass the Fairy Forest.

Field of Flowers Bird Baths


Sitting in a field of seasonal flowers is our water play area. Local artist Linda Edmunds created bird baths using large squash and rhubarb leaves. Each one is hand painted and sealed to bring a fun and playful feel to the garden. The bird baths instill water play. Just to the right of the field of flowers is a big concrete bowl which when filled will have floating balls in it. Both the bird baths and bowl invite the child to play by simply pouring water into them as well as placing various nature items there to interact with. Many specific therapy modalities also use water as a tool for healing. This allows free play and imagination in a structured setting.

The Labyrinth


Welcome to the meandering path. Labyrinths are used as a centering tool to quiet the mind. The labyrinth at New Hope is a 7 circuit Chartre labyrinth.
The path winds its way back and forth, in and out. The mind becomes disoriented because it’s not sure which way the path will turn next. This confusion actually calms the mind in a still and gentle way. The wandering path also in only the width of one foot which means you can only walk with one foot, one pace at a time. Another tool which silences the mind.

A labyrinth isn’t a maze. The same path we use to walk to the center of the labyrinth is the same one we use to walk out.

A labyrinth is a tool of transformation. We are never the same person who walked into the labyrinth as the person who walks out. There are three stages of a labyrinth walk. The first is the intention to walk the labyrinth, quiet the mind and leave the outside world behind. The second is the actual walk. As we get closer to the center we are moving into our own interior space. Once in the center we take a moment to reflect, whether that’s a simple moment of gratitude, to take a few deep breaths or to even meditate. We are in the center of ourselves as well as being in the center of the labyrinth. Those few moments we took in our walk and reflective thoughts have us walking out a more centered person than when we walked in. The very design of the labyrinth instills this whether we choose to reflect in the center or not.
The labyrinth was designed for little legs and so the adults who walk it comment that the turns happen quickly, yes for long legged people but for our children visitors it’s just the right of walking paces between turns. Since the labyrinth has been installed, both staff and children have enjoyed walking the wandering path.

The Nature House


Next to the labyrinth is our Nature House. It is a place to have important conversations while playing and creating with nature. While in the nature house, children can create nature mandalas, use therapy trays such as sand, stone, and landscape as well as rake into the table top zen gardens.
Nature House is also a great place to be outside in all kinds of weather. It offers some protection from rain, snow, and sleet, allowing children to experience all moments regardless of weather outside.

As the children connect with the garden they are planting seeds for the future. The garden, the connection to nature, and life after the stress of abuse, are full of hope.

New Hope is a private garden and safe haven for those that utilize New Hope and its facilities and is closed to the general public.

The therapy garden was designed by Maryville resident Valarie Budayr. Valarie has been gardening her whole life. Valarie was on the creative design team for the Secret Garden at the Knoxville Botanical Gardens which opened in October of 2016. Valarie’s area of garden design specialties are labyrinth building and design as well as secret gardens, fairy gardens and houses,paradise, and healing gardens. She also greatly loves her vegetable garden. Valarie is also known as an award winning author and publisher.
It was her great joy to create the Therapy Garden at New Hope and wishes much healing and creative nature play to take place there.

Iona

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Iona had been calling me for a long time. This tiny island, the last bit of land before the great Atlantic, is at the end of the earth. Ireland is 40 miles to the south but other than that the only thing west of Iona is the vast unknown. It is serious work to get there: fly to Edinburgh, take a train to Oban, then a ferry to Mull, cross Mull on a one-way road in a bus and then one more ferry ride to Iona, walk to the Abbey and you finally arrived. Why would anyone feel the need to go to such a remote place? Why would this tiny island call me?

The story goes that St. Columba got in a bit of an argument over the Psalms at his Irish monastery so he was banished to Iona and built a monastery there in 563 and thus credited for bringing Christianity to Scotland. The monastery thrived and the Book of Kells was written on the island. It became a major pilgrimage site and great honor to be buried on the island. The first major Celtic crosses stood in front of the Abbey and the remaining pieces are in the museum. But there is a power to this place that seems otherworldly. It is often said that “the veils are thin” on Iona and it is easier and quicker to reach heaven if buried on the island. Many years ago I read that it is an “Atlantis Priestess Portal”, I can’t remember where I read that but I never forgot that description. I can’t say for sure what the power is–history, geography, geology, myth– or what this island means to other pilgrims in the past but what I can say is that I had one truly perfect day on earth on Iona.

I didn’t go to Iona on my 2009 trip to Scotland, I knew that time wasn’t right. On this trip it was the final destination that all the holy sites on the way prepared me for. It was raining and foggy on the one-way road across Mull and the traffic was very heavy. I couldn’t see the landscape and felt like I was in a cocoon in the very slow moving bus. Every few hundred feet we had to pull over and wait for an oncoming vehicle. We finally arrived at the parking lot and I got my suitcase and walked through the rain down to the ferry and across the waves onto the ramp; no tourist cars are allowed on the island. I got to the hotel and settled in and then had a group tour of the Abbey. It is plain but it is hallowed ground. I visited the museum and took a walk. As I walked the path to the ocean I had the same overwhelming feeling of joy that I had on the Camino. Three black sheep grazing by the road added to my happiness.

That first evening after supper, most of the group went to the service in the Abbey. The Iona Community, which is dedicated to social justice, conducted a beautiful ecumenical service with singing and sharing of bread. Coffee and dessert in the hotel lounge with my dear friends ended my first partial day on Iona.

All day a song that I had in my iTunes had been going round my head, Cantique de Jean Racine by Faure. The words are in Latin so I looked up the translation, I felt there was a message. “O Christ look with favor upon your faithful people now gathered to praise you”. In my excitement to visit these holy sites and have experiences I forgot the true goal of pilgrimage—-devotion. I was on Iona not for my benefit but to give my devotion to the Divine. I was on this holy isle to sing praises and give thanks for life. I listened to the song over and over, soaking in the beautiful melody and important message.

I had been watching the weather all week hoping that we would have a sunny day on our full day on the island and my prayers were answered. I woke to bright morning sun and the sound of mooing. I walked out to find a herd of “hairy coos”–highland cattle in the nearby barnyard. The baby came running to greet me but was kept at bay by a long-horned mother with gruff voice. I promised her I wouldn’t touch, just admire. After breakfast the hikers in the group met at the ruins of the nunnery to walk across the island to St. Columba Bay. We had a few moment to enjoy this place of worship where stones stacked by man and meadows provided by Mother Nature come together to make the perfect chapel.

After obtaining a few snacks our little group started the walk. The sparkling sun, green meadows, charming animals and the chatter of dear friends made the world even brighter and more vivid. How about the ram with such curly horns that they looked like he had spectacles on. Or my personal favorite, white fluffy lambs frolicking on yellow-flower meadows—ahhhh, it was almost too much to bear. Every step was like walking in a dream. Down the final hill was a beautiful, turquoise bay. The beach is a thick pile of perfectly smooth rocks and down by the water are innumerable green marble stones polished by billions of waves for millions of years. I was surprised we could walk back to the hotel with the weight of all our treasured stones which are said to give protection.

I went over to walk the near by labyrinth and had a bit of an encounter with the head cow as we were walking in open pasture. Apparently I was on her path and she told me in no uncertain terms to get the hell out of her way. Big bossy cows not behind a fence are not to be trifled with and I quickly obeyed.

Then lunch and a bit of retail therapy—that didn’t take long for there are only a few shops. I decided I needed more time in the Abbey to wander alone. I sat in a stream of sunlight and listened to the theme song of my visit on my iPod and soaked in the glory. It isn’t a fancy Abbey but the history and devotion of 1500 years makes it a powerful place. I sat in front of the stone crosses in the museum and thought about all the pilgrims before me and those to come.

After supper I went to the Abbey for the evening service. I was the only one in the group to go but I felt called to be in the Abbey as much as possible. I was greeted by the shadow of the cross on the stone wall of St Columba’s tiny chapel and then made my way inside and found a seat in the Choir. The service was more traditional with just a handful of participants. That was fine with me because I love traditional liturgy. I know it was a time of devotion but the service was absolutely devised by the Divine for my perfect joyful day on Iona. First there was a cosmic joke—the young Englishman leading the service was wearing a bright green tee shirt that said “Dollywood Tennessee” I kid you not!! Dollywood is just up the road from my home and I have been there many times.

The first song, one I knew well, reminded me of my dad. He was a very spiritual man and would have loved my pilgrimage. A few Bible readings and then another song. This time the hymn tune was St. Columba. Wait, that is my favorite tune—I’ve played it on the piano hundreds of times—I didn’t know that was the name. I play that song like a chant. There I was singing new words to my most loved hymn, St. Columba was already a part of my life. A few more Bible verses and then the closing song. The veil between heaven and earth was nonexistent as I sang the final tune as a two-part round “All praise to thee my God this Night for all the blessing for the Light”. I knew all the words by heart. “Praise God from whom all Blessing flow, Praise him all Creatures here below”. A perfect reminder of the message of devotion from the day before. My voice echoed against the ancient stones and I held my hand to my heart in pure joy.

I joined my friends for our final coffee and dessert to share our experiences of the day as the sun set for the short night on this tiny island outpost in the north Atlantic. It was a magic day—not of big experiences but of subtle joys of our beautiful world, meaningful songs, sun and water, friends and history all bathed in the light of the Divine.

The Dove and the Stone by Alice O. Howell

Christ of the Celts, The Healing of Creation  J. Philip Newell

The Sleeping Beauty

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A couple of weeks after my trip to Southeast Asia I found myself yet again in a very different world and a very different experience. Alexandra wanted to meet up on NYC for a mother/daughter arts weekend—how could I say no to that. My sweet girl and art—never a better combination.

For both of us it was a pilgrimage for we were going to see the New York City Ballet perform The Sleeping Beauty. I have loved ballet since I was a small girl but it wasn’t available to me because of religious restrictions. When I became a mother and removed those artificial restrictions I put my daughters in ballet class the moment they were old enough. I was too old to begin ballet but could live vicariously through them—-I’m so glad it worked out for all of us. Alexandra became passionate about ballet and it was her life all through school and beyond. She still takes class regularly and informs me that it is essential for her life and mental wellbeing. She is six feet tall and professional dancing isn’t her career path but instead she just gets to find the joy with none of the pressure.

Over the last few years she has become passionate about the New York City Ballet and follows them like others follow football. She knows the players, the moves, the opponents, the dramas and the choreography. So in February NYCB was performing her number one ballet The Sleeping Beauty. This ballet contains the quintessential elements of ballet in its highest form. The music, costumes, story, dancers, orchestra and audience all come together to experience art at its most refined and inspired.

Tchaikovsky wrote the music to The Sleeping Beauty in 1889 and was first performed in 1890. It has been a touchstone for classical ballet ever since. Along with The Nutcracker and Swan Lake, The Sleeping Beauty will forever remain a popular and perfect ballet as it is at once pure beauty and mythic story that touches our hearts.  For in the classic fairytale we are reminded that true unconditional love awakens us from our unconscious lives. The NYCB production is choreographed by Peter Martins and is very much in the school of George Balanchine who founded the company. It is this perfect combination of the magnificent score by Tchaikovsky and the unique and truly American style of Balanchine that makes this work iconic and universal. Yet it was over 100 years in the making. Balanchine, a half a century after Tchaikovsky, pioneered a style and technique that matches the music like never before and elevated the art to a new level. It is a unique art form that can change and grow but yet still convey the essence of the original story and music.

Ballet is art expressed with the human body in time and space and this is the essence of this pilgrimage but makes it so different from visiting sacred sites. This is a pilgrimage of Time and ephemeral beauty. It is Time that brings the music and movement together in a refined state. Only in Time does this experience exist, the music and movement are only in the Now, fleeting and yet eternal in the effect on all who participate; dancers, musicians and audience. Alexandra and I were enraptured by the experience and what human beings are able to create. Each perfect movement to the perfect note is a transcendent moment.

Alexandra is the poster child for October 2017 Knoxville Symphony.   This picture from 2011 is just pure joy.

Abbey of Gethsemani

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Trappist, KY

A few weeks ago Hamilton set out early in the morning to visit friends in Gravel Switch, Kentucky, to do whatever grown men do that is legal and moral. I find it usually involves metal objects that have letters and numbers instead of names and is in a language totally unrecognizable in my world. But that morning I decided tag along because the next stop on my sacred tour of rural America was just 45 minutes up the road in Trappist, Kentucky, just south of Bardstown. We met up with another couple outside of Danville, putting the men in one car and the ladies in another to go on our separate adventures. Barbara is a native of the area but hadn’t been to Trappist in many years. So we headed down the empty, winding roads through the beautiful back country of central Kentucky.

Tucked into a corner of the rolling country side is a Trappist monastery, Abbey of Gethemani, officially known as Cistercians. I don’t know about you but rural Kentucky is not the place I would go looking for monks; Pentecostals, tiny non-denominational churches, maybe even snake handlers but not Cistercian Monks who live in silence and prayer. Apparently Bardstown was settled by Catholics in 1808 in a very non-Catholic region of the world. Seeing as how the Catholics don’t have a ban on alcohol like the other local Protestant religions, Bardstown became the seat of the bourbon industry so the local landscape has enclaves of bourbon warehouses next to a half a dozen local distilleries. It is a strange but charming combination of religion, ‘demon rum’ and southern history with My Old Kentucky Home presiding over it all.

The Abbey of Gethsemani was established in 1848 and on a cold day in late December the monks began singing the Liturgy of the Hours seven times a day and haven’t stopped since, 168 years of devotion to prayers for the world without ceasing. The prayers start at 3:15 am with Vigils and continue at intervals throughout the day until Compline at 7:30 pm. In the morning between prayers the monks work. In the past there was farming but now they produce bourbon fudge and fruitcakes to support the monastery. In the afternoon, there is time for reading, prayer and contemplation. Although they are not vowed to silence, silence is part of their way of living.

I first heard of the Abbey of Gethsemani many years ago because there is a large guest house open to anyone of all faiths for silent retreats. The simple and tidy rooms are attached to the church. There is a library and extensive grounds for long walks. There are no classes or events, just time and space to go on an inner journey of silence and healing on this holy ground devoted to prayer.

I arrived about 10, on an overcast and very humid August day. I spent sometime in the welcome center where there is a movie that highlights the history and an average day at Gethsemani. Next door is a lovely gift store with local pottery, spiritual books, handicrafts from other monasteries and of course the bourbon fudge and bourbon fruitcake made on the grounds. I bought a sample of each to bring home. Nothing makes me happier the sugar blessed by monks.

The most important part of the visit was at 12:15, Sext, the prayers just before lunch. I sat outside under the trees waiting for the appointed time, the breeze helping with the humidity a bit. The peacefulness of the land and nearby cemetery gave me time and space to find my own inner quiet. Visitors are allowed at any of the services but must sit in the narthex under a small balcony. There is a barrier and then the long thin modern sanctuary stretches out to a distant altar. The bell tolled and about three dozen monks started to enter one by one from several doors and took their appointed places. They each wore a long white tunic with a brown scapular cinched at the waist with a brown belt except the three novices who had white scapulars. Under the narrow stained glass windows, they sat in the choir divided in two by the aisle facing each other with a small organ in the middle of the right wall.

The bell tolled again and the organ played and the monks began their prayers. Nothing was spoken only sung and the words of those noon prayers echoed that day as they had over 60,000 times since the monastery opened so long ago. About 20 minutes later, the prayers were finished and the bell tolled again and the monks filed out to their next duty. The other 20 or so visitors quietly left to go back to their own prayers and retreat. No one wanted to break the beautiful silence of that moment. As I walked back to my car in the heat of the noonday, I felt blessed by those beautiful prayers and so thankful that these men had devoted their lives to God and for the blessing of all the world.

http://www.monks.org

Music of the Spheres

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recital program

A few weeks ago an acquaintance called to see if I would be up for hosting a solo piano recital in my house. Sarah has a month-long concert tour arranged and wanted a chance to have a trial run in front of a small and adoring audience. Nothing could make me happier. I love classical piano and an hour of Chopin, Brahms and Rachmaninoff played live in my home is pure heaven to me. We agreed on a date and I emailed some friends for my first of hopefully many salon concerts.

My mother’s wonderful piano is perfect for such concerts but was in need of a good tuning. The move from Colorado last year and the climate and altitude change made the tuning go out quickly as it adjusts to my humid climate. Fortunately a few weeks before Caroline had a party for some of her physics friends and one of them happen to have a first career as a piano tuner before deciding to be an astrophysicist. I texted him and we set up an appointment for the next week.

Noah showed up with equipment in hand ready to start tuning when I asked him about the trend back to tune instruments to the traditional 432hz for A rather than the modern 440hz. He checked the current tuning and the A was naturally falling at 432hz. He said that it would be no problem to keep it there and it would be a more stable tuning for my piano.

I first started to hear about 432hz tuning a few years ago and did some investigating then since I love classical music, am an amateur pianist and a devoted violin mom, so music is an integral part of my everyday life. Tuning A to 432hz is a more natural vibrational alignment to the patterns of earth, time, math and sacred geometry, it is also a component of the phi ratio, 1.618, also known as the golden mean, the divine proportion, the building code of nature that sets the proportions of our world to be in harmony. The Great Pyramid, Stonehenge, seashells and our inner ear are a few examples of this natural pattern. Harmony, frequency, vibration are all important to becoming in tune with the cosmos and our enlightened selves.

The standard tuning of 440hz was introduced early in the 20th century, a time when humans were increasingly out of tune with our natural environment and the rhythms of nature, a consequence of high speed travel, artificial light and world wars. We seemingly conquered nature and thus fell out of harmony with our own natural self. The advancements of our modern world aren’t going away but we can do much to restore our own personal vibration to be in harmony with the Universe. Nature, beautiful music, sunlight, silence, sacred sites are a few of the ways that we can bring our bodies back into alignment with the music of the spheres.

The concert was glorious, an hour of beautiful music masterfully played. The intimate setting of a few friends and small room made the music even more tangible and I felt that my whole being was part of the experience.

Chopin played with 432hz tuning

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mi145S-HfQ

The Magic Flute

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It was time for a change. For many years my holiday celebrations always included Nutcracker and A Christmas Carol. I’ve seen them both many times. When I hear the Nutcracker music I can practically dance the choreography. I can now quote whole passages from A Christmas Carol. So instead of The Nutcracker I spent a delightful afternoon watching a very fanciful version of Mozart’s The Magic Flute thanks to the Metropolitan Opera in HD broadcast. Next week I’m going to see The Sound of Music performed by a touring Broadway company. Neither of these productions you would call Christmasy but I like them and they are joyful and fun.

I’ve loved opera for many years now and I go to the Metropolitan Opera HD live broadcasts regularly. http://www.metopera.org/Season/In-Cinemas/ It is kind of a hobby that doesn’t take up room in my house. I also get to see operas that aren’t possible for our local opera to stage. Opera takes all of the arts and combines them into one amazing expression of the human condition. The talent and dedication it takes to stage an opera combine with the genius of the composer, making it a brilliant presentation of our highest potential. OK, I know in grand opera the heroine must die in the end. That is the rule but fortunately there are happy of operas like The Magic Flute. No Kleenex needed for the final scene.

The music of The Magic Flute is spectacular, the sets and staging in the Met’s current production are phantasmagorical. There are some of the most famous arias in all of opera. But here is what makes it so fun for us pilgrims: it is an Egyptian initiation opera, I bet you didn’t see that coming. I was so shocked the first time I found out many years ago. Mozart was a Freemason and he put many of the ideals and symbolism of Masonry into his work.

First there is the clash between light and dark, the Queen of the Night and the High Priest Sarastro represent this polarity. It is hard for the hero and heroine, Tamino and Pamina to even find out who is telling the truth. Ultimately they end up in the Temple of the High Priest where he prays to Isis and Osiris to protect them on their journey through fire (courage) and water (endurance) initiations to make them worthy of love. Three spirits guide them on this journey advising them to be patient and courageous in the quest for truth and love. The magic flute that Tamino is gifted by Sarastro helps guide him and keeps him in harmony with his quest. In the end truth and love prevail and the Queen of the Night is conquered.

The delightful bird catcher Papagano is Tamino’s sidekick through the story and represents our more sensual nature. Papagano is not so interested in Truth and Virtue, in fact he has a bit of trouble with embellishing his story. He is preoccupied with food and finding a cute lady bird catcher. Sarastro gifts him magic bells to help harmonize him with his more earthly destiny. Papagano finds his ideal partner in Papagana and they plan their life together which includes lots of little chicks.

Truth, love, virtue and perseverance are all essential tools our magical characters need for their journey, the same essential tools for our initiation to a life dedicated to our sacred path. The magic flute and bells reminds us that we need to harmonize yourself with these ideals and that will keep us on the path that is taking us to our more enlightened selves.