Listening

This is a great talk on listening.

I love Evelyn Glennie.  Her musicianship and virtuosity are a given, but here I am really touched my her thoughts on both the ideas of interpretation vs. translation and listening in general.

Glennie has been Profoundly Deaf since she was 12.

This is from a Buddhist blog, 21Awake, that I have just started reading.  Enjoy.

"In the practice of tolerance, one's enemy is the best teacher. " - H.H. The Dalai Lama

I've been thinking about this quote a lot over the past few days.

Most will probably have heard about the tragedy in Knoxville this past Sunday.  If not, here is a link to one of many stories covering the events.  Now, it is probably safe to say that there are incidences of gun-related violence every day, but this one hits me a bit closer to home.  I attend and am very active in my local UU Church.  I have found a home there where I am free to explore and develop a personal theology while being in a caring and supportive community that cares about many of the same issues that I do.  

Yes, it is true that I am a Liberal.  I wear the term proudly.  Most of my friends are Liberals and the Church I attend supports many Liberal causes.  I have always valued discussion and discourse with those whose viewpoints differ from my own, but the level of discourse has been steadily declining and I believe that this decline is one of the many things that contributed to this tragedy.  

Discussions decline into defensiveness.  Defensiveness declines into shouting.  Shouting declines to silence.  Silence declines to anger.  Anger declines to irrational rage.  Rage...well, we can see where that leads.

In that light, I will not use this space to bring an indictment to any of the icons that one could blame.  In fact I won't even list them; we all probably have a long list of both individuals and institutions that we feel are responsible.  Instead I will offer these words which have been serving as a mantra of sorts for me in the past few days.

Compassion

Tolerance

After my initial shock and rush of feelings, compassion was the strongest emotion I felt. Compassion for the victims, families, community, and even for the shooter.  I can't imagine the series of events and circumstances that would lead a human being to the conclusion that this was not only a rational act, but that it was the best course of action. 

I feel compassion for the community of Knoxville.  And, of course, for the congregates of TVUU. I hope with all my heart that you will be able to feel safe again.

I also hope that as we process, grieve, and discuss this horrible tragedy that we can remember tolerance.  If we allow our discourse, discussion, thinking, speaking and action to decline to the level of irrationality, we will loose much of what we as Liberals - religious and otherwise - strive for.

Suffering, I have learned, is a fact of life.  I am angry.  I'm sure many of my friends are angry. But it is not an anger that consumes me.  I see it, acknowledge it, allow it to pass over over me, and come back to my "baseline" of compassion and tolerance.  When a being allows anger and rage to replace compassion and love, the consequences become more and more unthinkable. 

Please, keep the city of Knoxville in your thoughts.

Daniel Melnick's Soundslope

Soundslope is a great jazz and creative music blog that I read fairly religiously.  Dan keeps his finger firmly on the pulse of the Chicago Creative Scene and offers wonderful insights in the bigger world of music as well.  

I was reading today's post and it really resonated with me.  It was a short excerpt from Tricycle: The Buddhist Review (another periodical I often read...).  Here it is in full:

The artist's dilemma and the meditator's are, in a deep sense, equivalent. Both are repeatedly willing to confront an unknown and to risk a response that they cannot predict or control. Both are disciplined in skills that allow them to remain focused on their task and to express their response in a way that will illuminate the dilemma they share with others. And both are liable to similar outcomes. The artist's work is prone to be derivative, a variation on the style of a great master or established school. The meditator's response might tend to be dogmatic, a variation on the words of a hallowed tradition or revered teacher. There is nothing wrong with such responses. But we recognize their secondary nature, their failure to reach the peaks of primary imaginative creation. Great Art and Great Dharma both give rise to something that has never quite been imagined before. Artist and meditator alike ultimately aspire to an original act.

--Stephen Batchelor, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, Vol. IV, #2

I like this passage for a lot of reasons.  I have often likened practice to a meditation, in fact Matt Otto has some great thoughts about that here.  But I especially like the parallels that can be drawn between the faith required to sit every day and the faith required to go to the horn every day.  Neither discipline has much to offer in the immediate gratification department.  At this point in my life I don't hit plateaus in such a way that I have big breakthroughs after each practice session and I certainly don't feel any more enlightened after chanting (I currently practice Nichiren Buddhism)for 15 minutes (although I do feel more relaxed and centered) but yet I keep going back.  I have faith that the act will manifest positive results over time.  

Another parallel I like is that both disciplines place you squarely in the present tense.  Bergonzi says playing jazz makes you addicted to the moment.  This is so true for me.  The more I do it the more I stay in the moment - this goes for both music and meditation.    

I am thankful that Dan posted this today.  It was a beautiful gem of wisdom.

Perspective

I don't know if it is because of my liberal leanings or my upbringing, but I am afflicted with a chronic case of volunteerism.  I often end up taking on things that I, upon reflection, wish I hadn't.

This is not the case today.

On Sunday I worked the overnight shift at a homeless shelter sponsored by the church that my family and I go to.  We had 38 guests and while there were a few folks that fit the stereotype of "homeless person", I was humbled to be reminded of how many of these folks are just like all of us but for having a spot of bad luck that spiraled out of control.  I was certainly very thankful that I could help these folks out with a place to sleep and a meal, but it got me thinking about how close any of us are to this situation.  I know that all it would take for me is a couple of missed paychecks before I would have to make some SERIOUS choices about what I could do without.  As some of the current news in the jazz world reminds us, artists are generally not looked at as a necessity and the economic reality is that many who slave over craft and make huge art live hand to mouth.  I am lucky and thankful everyday to have a day job that both takes care of me and my family very well and is often very personally and professionally satisfying.  I will admit to having taken that for granted as I look around my living room and see the very high stacks of books, records, and CDs that we have amassed.  

Working the shelter was a wonderful, humbling experience that has made me more mindful of both how incredibly lucky I am and how things are so impermanent. 

This is one of my favorite Buddhist passages:

Just like a dream experience,

Whatever things I enjoy

Will become a memory.

Whatever has passed will not be seen again.

I didn't sleep much Sunday night, not because of the work or the discomfort of being away from my own bed, but because I sat in awe of how much courage, compassion, warmth, and love I felt at this shelter from both the volunteers and the guests.