Terrapin Station

The Great Mandala

I was watching a video of Lilith Fair yesterday, and I was very struck that all the artists said they were surrounded by music in their early years. Sheryl Crow, Shawn Colvin, Emily Saliers & Amy Ray, all the others, every single one. Their parents played them tons of music and it stuck and it got into their heads and it worked its magic. 

 

I was raised listening to Peter, Paul & Mary, The Kingston Trio, John Denver, Simon & Garfunkel, as well as lots and lots of folk Mass and church music. Harmony has great power for me.

 

I listened to this one again today. I remember the first time I really listened to the words, as a young teen. It affected me so powerfully then, and now. I guess it's no wonder that I grew up to be a belated hippie peacenik, despite my conservative Republican parents. What the hell did they expect? 

 

I love this version, with Richie Havens and Peter Yarrow. 

 

The Great Manadala (Wheel of Life) 

 

So I told him that he'd better shut his mouth
And do his job like a man.
And he answered "Listen, Father,
I will never kill another."
He thinks he's better
than his brother that died
What the hell does he think he's doing
To his father who brought him up right?

 

Take your place on The Great Mandala
As it moves through your brief moment of time.
Win or lose now you must choose now
And if you lose you're only losing your life.

 

Tell the jailer not to bother
With his meal of bread and water today.
He is fasting 'til the killing's over
He's a martyr, he thinks he's a prophet.
But he's a coward, he's just playing a game
He can't do it, he can't change it
It's been going on for ten thousand years

 

Tell the people they are safe now
Hunger stopped him, he lies still in his cell.
Death has gagged his accusations

We are free now, we can kill now,
We can hate now, now we can end the world
We're not guilty, he was crazy
And it's been going on for ten thousand years!

 

Take your place on The Great Mandala
As it moves through your brief moment of time.
Win or lose now you must choose now
And if you lose you've only wasted your life.

 

Songwriters: Albert B. Grossman / Mary Allin Travers / Peter Yarrow

The Great Manadalla (Wheel of Life) lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

What is the world coming to?

 

Last night we went to the Yes concert. I loved it.

Verizon Theatre at Grand Prairie is a great venue...my first time there. Serving beer and cocktails (insanely overpriced, but, of course they are). Comfortable seats. Small, manageable size and not too far a walk from parking.

I did not love the opening band (Sid Arthur) but they only played for 30 minutes.

The newer Yes music was good, though the old favorites (Roundabout, All Good People) were the best. Of course.

HOWEVER.

There was a couple sitting next to us with their 5-year-old son. (Who brings a kid that age to a concert that starts at 9 pm?) Initially it was the dad who was annoying, boasting loudly to anyone who would listen about the many times he'd seen the band and even met them and blah blah blah. Then he kept talking loudly DURING the music at first, until Ken gave him the Very Evil Eye. 

Then, the child started to throw some kind of temper fit, and it didn't show any signs of stopping. Probably 45 minutes. He was stomping his feet on the floor, NOT in rhythm with the music, and banging them on the railing in front of us (we were in the front row of a section). He was also yelling. Neither of his parents tried to do anything about this, after an initial failed attempt.

Finally, I leaned over to the mom and said, "Can you get him to stop that? It's making it really hard to enjoy the show." She just sort of smirked at me and didn't reply. So I said, "May *I* say something to him?" She smirked more and said, "I'll try to get him to stop."

Just then a favorite song came on, so I concentrated hard on that. Once it was over, we moved seats.

Now, I know that some kids have issues with ASD and have blowups. But in that case, wouldn't the parents take him out? and really, a concert with a lot of loud music and flashing lights seems like torture for someone in that position. Besides, I'd heard him talking to his parents before the show started, and he seemed (I know, what do I know?!) like a perfectly neurotypical kid.

Either way. What am I missing here?

 

Contemplative Practices Tree - Singing in Prayer

Thanks to the Contemplative Christians site, where you can read more about this and see the source of the graphic. 

This week, I've been trying to think how to write about the place that singing has in my prayer life. This is as opposed to singing in my worship life...which is entirely different, but hugely important.

Tuesday of this week, I took our Josie to the vet. We had noticed  a small lump in her mammary area, and that morning it seemed larger. We were very worried.

The vet took a sample and said that there were some cells he needed the pathologist to look at.  More worry. The next day, vet called and said there were no cancerous cells, and that we should just watch the spot.

Huge relief!

I'm thinking back to the vet visit, though. They took the sample and brought her back to me while the vet looked at it under the microscope. As I held her in the exam room (happy, peppy, totally unaware that anything might be wrong), I started to sing softly. "Come Ye Weary" and "I Will Rejoice in the Lord Alway" and spirituals. It wasn't for Josie...she doesn't care if I sing. It was for me. It was prayer, and it was comfort.

When Ken was in the hospital in December '12, I did the same thing one late bad night. Now, Ken cares if I sing. As in, he'd rather I wouldn't. Because he has perfect pitch and I don't. So I mostly refrain when I am with him (and not in a choral setting). A cappella singing is not my forte! But I had such deep pain that night, and so did he, and I didn't know how to pray for him otherwise. He didn't object (that was nice of him). Because I needed it.

There are times when singing is all that gets me through...in the car, when I am sad; in the laundry room, when I am happy.

Looking at the tree, they categorize it as "creative" activity, which I think is true. Prayer singing helps me open a space for me and the prayer intention...the beloved dog, the precious ill spouse, the people I lift up during the quotidian work of laundry.

Do you sing? Why? When? Where?

Friday Five: Let's Sing

Here's my Friday Five as posted at RevGals:

You know how sometimes you just want to have a hymn sing?

Well, today is that day.

Share with the group five favorite hymns or praise songs or songs that bring you close to the Spirit (that's a pretty wide net!) and why they are special to you.

Bonus if you can share Youtube videos or audio files of one or two or more.

1) This is my favorite because it speaks to my soul a new way every time I read or hear it. The text is a poem by Auden:

He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness.
You will see rare beasts and have unique experiences.
He is the Truth.
Seek him in the Kingdom of Anxiety.
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.
He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh.
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.

W.H. Auden,
For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio

In the Episcopal Hymnal 1982, it is number 463, a tune by David Hurd. I am sad that I can't locate an audio file of it anywhere. The music is appropriate to a place called "the Land of Unlikeness." If you know it, you know what I mean. If you can get your hands on the hymnal and can read music, you will see.  :) 

2) Holy Manna, which I love in the Sacred Harp / Shape Note singing versions. But some with tender ears do not love those versions. So here you go:

3) Some days, playing Taize in the background is what gets me through:

4) Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

 

5) A folk mass favorite, again from my childhood...

I Am the Resurrection by Ray Repp

Okay, and a bonus one, also folk mass material: Take Our Bread, by Joe Wise.These last two  remind me of growing up in the charismatic renewal movement in the 70's. 

Friday Five: Christmases Past

A simple Five from Jan: 

Tell us about five Christmas memories you have.

1) I think my earliest Christmas memory is Christmas Eve, of Bill, Sarah, Nancy and me all wearing pajamas and sitting on the living room floor in front of the Christmas tree.  There's a picture of all of us grinning at the camera like monkeys...I was about four, I think.  What I remember aside from the picture is Bill giggling with glee, holding his feet and rolling on his back like a hoop, and saying "SandyClaws is coming tonight!"

2) My dining room table.  I'm not sure when my mother took ownership of that furniture, but it was before I can remember.  It and the chairs were built by my great-grandfather;  it's a gorgeous piece and I love it.Today while wrapping some gifts, I realized that this dining table is the only place I remember wrapping gifts throughout my childhood and until I left home...and then it came to live with me about 6 years ago. I imagine my mom continued to use it for that in the interim years.  Think of all the years of wrapping that entails...all the gifts bought with love and excitement and anticipation. 

3) My younger sister got married in May of 1989, and that year she and her new husband didn't come to our home for Christmas.  I can't remember what they did, actually, but I do remember that Nancy's absence left a ragged hole in what had been our family of four.  It is natural, it is life, it is what happens...but I remember a sense of loss and confusion on that Christmas morning.  (you makin' me cry)...

4) My "best Christmas presents ever"

Josie, 2002

Boudreaux, 2005

These two dogs have introduced me to what it means to love a canine.  I can't imagine my life without them.  When we went to pick up Josie on Christmas Eve, she was SO tiny.  Brandon wanted to hold her (in the backseat) and I let him.  He whispered to her all the way home from East Texas where we'd gone to meet the breeder.  That night, I put her in a crate by my bed, determined! to crate train that dog from the beginning!  Yeah, right.  She cried for a few minutes and I brought her into bed with us. 

At about 3 am, Brandon came knocking at our door!  Ken said, "what do you want?"  Brandon said, "It's Christmas!"  Ken said, "It's too early!  Go back to bed!"  Brandon said, "But I want to see the puppy!"  Well, so he came and got in bed with us (one of the only times) and all four of us slept together the rest of that night.  When he woke up, Ken went poking around in the bed to make sure neither of us had rolled over on the dog...but she was fine! 

5) No list of Christmas memories could be complete without Christmas Eve services at church (every, every, every year), and singing in the choir.  Once we were in junior high school and beyond, we always went to midnight Masses.  Beautiful...darkened sanctuary, and the light spreading from candle to candle as "Silent Night" is sung. 

6) Just one more!  My mom had a record album called "Organ and Chimes by Robert Rheims" and the record is RED, oh my gosh, it was the coolest thing ever.  I loved putting that on my mom's stereo and listening to it...so cool.  I need to get it copied to CD or mp3 format because I haven't been able to listen to it in years.  You can buy the one pictured below on Etsy, if you would like...

 Merry Christmas Past and Present!  Veni, veni Emmanuel.

Heart-stoppingly beautiful

The video for the day

If you want to sing out

National Bird Day

Reprinted from the Daily Devotion of The Cathedral of Hope, Dallas: 

Scripture
I know all the birds of the mountains
And every wild creature is in my care.  Psalm 50.1

A Word of Hope
Many of the national days of remembrance we honor are rather obscure and even unknown to most people, but today, National Bird Day, is an occasion that coincides beautifully with the last day of the Christmastide Season. The evening of this day is also called 12th Night, the last of the twelve days of Christmas, the eve of the Epiphany, and medieval British traditions appointed two birds to symbolize both this day and the January 6 arrival of the Magi.

The wren, a small and humble grey brown bird, is the symbol of the departed old year and the bright, red breasted robin is the symbol of the new hope, the coming of the influential, and we are to assume, colorful magi who arrived in Bethlehem to worship and adore the Christ Child on behalf of the entire gentile world. The robin’s migration also ushered in the bright light of the world as the long dark days of winter were grinding to a close. Medieval Christians were familiar, too, with the old legend of the robin’s red breast being God’s reward for its stalwartly fanning the embers of the stable’s fire all night in order to provide warmth for the Christ Child.
Birds, from the partridge to the seven swans comprised half of all the gifts my true love gave to me on the 12 Days of Christmas, but their importance as symbols trace back to the teachings of Jesus, who obviously had great respect and much knowledge of our avian friends. His birds of the air stories featured ravens, sparrows, roosters, doves, pigeons and he even compared himself to a mother hen: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem!...I have often wanted to gather your people, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings.” Luke 13.34.

Prayer
May I use this Twelfth Night as a good time of the year to remember and honor all the wrens and robins of my own life, and respect them as Jesus did, as quiet memories of the past and vibrant hopes for the future.

Devotion Author:
Dan Peeler
Minister for Children and Families, COH

*****

Birds and squirrels are one of my very greatest joys.  When I went with Ken to his specialist visit last week, on the third floor of a very brick-y medical building, a wonderful singing sounded right out the window of the room.  The nurse said, "Oh, that's our cardinal."  Apparently this male cardinal comes day after day and sings there...it's not an openable window, so he's not getting any food from the gig...he just comes and sings there because he likes it.  Were we the lucky ducks or what?  Click here to hear what we enjoyed.  Thank you, little brother. 

Over the holiday, some new concrete sidewalk was poured on my path from car to work.  I was tickled beyond measure to see that, although it had been carefully blocked from human traffic by big orange barrels and yellow tape, the set concrete is full of squirrel tracks.  There's a lot of student-made art on our campus, and I'm so pleased to see our squirrels getting into that action.  I'll get a picture soon.  Fabulous!

We are not our own

We are not our own. Earth forms us,
human leaves on nature's growing vine,
fruit of many generations,
seeds of life divine.

We are not alone. Earth names us:
past and present, peoples near and far,
family and friends and strangers
show us who we are.

Through a human life God finds us;
dying, living, love is fully known,
and in bread and wine reminds us:
we are not our own.

Therefore let us make thanksgiving,
and with justice, willing and aware,
give to earth, and all things living,
liturgies of care.

And if love's encounters lead us
on a way uncertain and unknown,
all the saints with prayer surround us:
We are not alone.

Let us be a house of welcome,
living stone upholding living stone,
gladly showing all our neighbours
we are not our own!

Words: Brian Wren (1936-);
© by Stainer & Bell Ltd. (admin. by Hope Publishing Co., Carol Stream, IL 60188).  (not used here by permission, I got this from Oremus where it is... and where all ordering info can be found)

We read through this piece at choir rehearsal last night.  I love it; the rhythm and melody are simple but interesting; but the lyrics were what really grabbed me.  I have been thinking very much about ancestors (all the work on Ancestry.com I'm doing, and a family reunion for my husband's side this weekend) and how those who have gone before are a vital part of our great cloud of witnesses.  And also how the connections we have with others in our own time are our work of Christ in the world.  Liturgies of care, to earth and to one another.  This is how we are family in community.