Thursday, April 24, 2014

A Vacation from Music? Sort of....

After 6 months in L.A., of pounding the song writing pavement, I needed a vacation! In the time I had been here so far, I had accomplished quite a bit; not with any major outcome, but little steps here and there. I had gotten some day jobs, recorded two songs in a studio, submitted my music to countless contests and opportunities, and performed a little at various venues. Did I mention I had MOVED from my home of 8 years?! That was more than a little stressful. I decided to take two weeks and decompress and have a good time. I started my journey slowly driving up the beautiful coastline past Malibu, Santa Barbara, a stop in Avila beach, and then ended up in Oakland. There I got news about 5 of my songs I had submitted for industry feedback. They had an intricate scoring system and I scored above 5 on everything from lyrics, melody, etc. and I scored a 10 in the category of "how the music fits with the lyrics", on every song. (Wouldn't that be the MAIN thing one would be looking for in a song?!) Regardless, the good news is that no one said I should give up songwriting, but clearly the consensus with my music after 6 months of pursuit, is that my writing is not "literal" enough. Can you imagine saying that to a Jim Morrison? "Hey Jim, your songs are too deep"... Anyway, I have been getting this feedback a lot, so I have to take it pretty seriously since I just moved my entire existence to try and be a songwriter. Unfortunately, I have never been a "story songwriter". I write in a poetic style and don't really care much about character development. I care about the emotions. I don't dislike story songs, I just simply don't write that way....for the most part. I do have some songs that I think fit the mold a little more, and I am going to record that material and present it for the next round of madness, but it was definitely hard to hear. Too bad I had not been born in the 60's. Apparently the attention span of people these days cannot handle anything that is not obvious and not quickly so. (not my words, but word from the industry). I feel that there are plenty of songs out there though, that are not totally literal, so perhaps I just have not found my avenue yet.

I accept rejection as graciously as I can, but it is still difficult, for anyone I think, so I try and vacate. After Oakland for a day, I head up to a retreat center in Leggett, Ca, where I have rented a cabin for a few days, and will see no one, and have no technology. I had a few books, and I really enjoyed playing and composing new material on the kalimba; my african thumb piano. On the day I left, I snapped a few photos, and I also wrote a piece about the experience. And guess what?! It is a SHORT piece! But feel free to text or instagram in between lines...:) I just got my new iphone 5s, so....yea.

___________________________________________________

                                Three Days at Rangjung Yeshe Gomde



I meander my way from Los Angeles up the coast of California. My destination: Rangjung Yeshe Gomde, a Tibetan Buddhist Retreat center in Leggett, Ca. It will be the first part of my long overdue vacation from a very stressful, life-changing year of moving and career changes. Although I do not practice in the vein of Tibetan Buddhism, I was familiar with the center from living in Northern California for 8 years. I had gone a couple of times to listen to talks by renowned teachers, which were held in their beautiful Buddhist Shrine Room. I knew it was also a place I could go for a personal retreat, to practice my own Vipassana meditation. For three days, I would be surrounded by 250 acres of lush forest along the Eel River, to practice meditation and to walk and relax amongst the grounds.  I rented a self-contained room right next to the rushing water, where I would be free of my phone, computer, and other distractions of modern daily life.

Day One: I arrive at my new digs with a pervasive tiredness that I didn’t know could exist. My excitement is shrouded in a drowsiness that immediately makes me want to sleep. When I wake up two hours later,  I’m still exhausted. I slowly move from my bed to the chair and cry about my existence, which has become a broken record. “What am I doing with my life?” “Why haven’t I made anything out of myself yet, I’m almost 40!” I sit paralyzed in a darkness that mimics the chilly overcast mountains for another couple of hours, then try to do some yoga, which is excruciatingly painful as I gently move my body around on the floor. On my evening walk, repeating thoughts pervade-most notably artist Pharell’s song, “Happy”, which I like well enough, but certainly not on repeat in my head to the point of madness. I realized it is probably because I heard that song about 20 times on various stations on the long drive up. The lyrics are surprisingly apropos though, for what one would hope would be an uplifting spiritual retreat.

“Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I’m happy
Clap along if you feel like that’s what you wanna do.”

I really did not feel happy, amused, or in a clapping hands kind of mood, so I cursed at myself as I stumbled along steep paths, also realizing that I was very out of shape.

Day Two: Still tired. I meditate, putter around, and then take a long nap in the afternoon. Yoga is still relatively painful. After an evening walk with Pharell’s song still in my head, I try and read to block it out, but fall asleep early with Thich Nhat Hahn’s book, “Anger” folded over my head.

Day Three: The sun is attempting to break through the dreariness, and I wake up feeling surprisingly refreshed and peacefully happy. Yoga is no longer painful, and I stretch my body luxuriously on the floor. Thoughts are passing freely and appear to seem more humorous then before.
On my walk-a bouquet of yellow Spanish peas for the Green Tara, the Tibetan Buddhist Goddess of activity, who sits in a frame on a bureau in my room. Carrots for my new friends, three donkey stall mates. I gleefully watch them interact very much like dysfunctional roommates and gently lecture them on loving-kindness. Walking meditation through the wet meadow; poppies, grasshoppers and butterflies. A bright green frog hopping through the pennyroyal. The warm sun makes its’ first appearance as I lounge by the river watching passing cloud formations. Picking fresh thyme for dinner and peppermint and lemon balm for tea from the garden. Finding a fox jawbone and leg bone and using it as a musical instrument.  Getting caught in an unexpected cold rain and feeling alive and exhilarated. Noticing that months of accumulated stress is dissolving as I sit concentrating on being fully present in the moment. Then, on my last evening as I sit in front of Green Tara, came to my consciousness from an unknown source-a perfect celestial heart, dark and radiant, which made me weep, but this time they were tears of joy.
“(Happy)
Bring me down
Can’t nothing
bring me down
My level’s too high
Bring me down
Can’t nothing
bring me down
I said
(let me tell you now)
Bring me down
Can’t nothing
bring me down
My level’s too high
Bring me down
Can’t nothing
bring me down
I said
Because I’m happy.”







2 comments: