Our Destiny: No More Bad Gigs

As musicians/healers, it is our destiny to conduct an inward search, and to document it with our music so that others may benefit. As they listen to the music coming through us, they too are inspired to look within. Light is being transmitted and received from soul to soul. Gradually, the planet moves from darkness to light. We as musicians must surrender to the ocean of our inner selves. We must descend deep into that ocean while the sludge of the ego floats on the surface. We let go of our egos and permit the music to come through us and do its work. We act as the instruments for that work.

If we can live in this realization, we will constantly have deep motivation for what is played, never getting stuck in the ungrateful consciousness of good gigs/bad gigs, out-of-tune pianos, low fees, ungracious audiences, and so on. Instead, our minds will be consumed with what a very great privilege it is to be the one selected to deliver the message to others. We will no longer be caught in the mundane world of good music/bad music ("am I playing well?") Instead, our hearts and minds will be focused on the task of remaining empty and alert to receiving this God-inspired information and translating it faithfully, without any coloration from us.

(excerpt from Effortless Mastery by Kenny Werner)

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Was just reminded of this, one of my favorite poems, by Sri Panchalam from the awesome band Smithfield Bargain. Enjoy:


Even after all this time,
the sun never says
to the earth,
"You owe me."
Look what happens
with a love like that -
it lights
the whole world.

(Hafiz, The Gift)

A Poem

(Abraham)

The first letter.
"A child, a union, a history
spread by contact,

(while in the act of
feeling the desire to scratch)
an illness in general,
is a case to be decided by a court.
{Cultured}
To die by degrees,
marching two by two
in a another dimension.

2X4

The sixth tone.
A tiny arachnid,
(often parasitic)
that is John,
the person or thing mentioned,
designating the one mentioned,
the tiny arachnid, is John.
He died that we might live.
Oh, that he were here!

In other words,
to search for
a self-governing, common, incorporated
town,
or any similar hole,
greasy people must,
in the time under Lincoln,
(a vest under his coat)
lower position or state, to lower
position in state.
(still the desire to scratch)

The story ended, ladies and gentlemen,
the president,
"the cow is a domestic animal, the
poor.
To injure by scraping;
to
tear to bits,
(also a sign of the infinitive)
fall to!

Produce an egg.
The tiny arachnid,
archaic, an urge,
marching two by two.
The assimilated form of,
"What's it matter?
The oval body laid by a female,
containing the germ of a new
individual.

That individual is John.