Thursday, November 11, 2010
The once and future student
Anytime I learn anything I don't already know, I'm happy. I'm sure that in some way or another, studying (anything) creates a neurological sparkle, a twinkle inside the gooey mass of my brain. Learning is pleasure, it really is. Oh yeah.
Lately I've been remembering, with immense gratitude, the great teachers I had when I lived in San Francisco. The 80's and 90's were a golden era there for those of us interested in studying the subtle arts. I learned to meditate from Jack Kornfield, studied shamanic healing with Vicki Noble, took classes in storytelling from Angeles Arrien. During my tenure with Reclaiming, I studied with spectacular teachers from whom I learned, among many many many other skills, how to groom energy (both my own and the energy of groups). I'm still so good at grooming energy that I'm told I radiate a sense of peace and hope.
I'm anything but peaceful on the inside - but how cool is it that my energy "reads" as peaceful? Very cool, if you ask me. My San Francisco teachers were (and are) top notch.
Fast forward to a few months ago. I loved studying the bass guitar, I did. I learned so much about so many things from that experience. Not only do I now hear bass lines in every piece of music I listen to, but suddenly I am really interested in drums and drummers, something that never caught my attention before.
As for the bass itself, well ... trying to play made my left hand cramp, something that I can't work through since I use my hands in my profession. Also, it wasn't fun. I loved picking up the instrument, I loved how I felt holding the bass, but the playing part just didn't work for me. OK. I gave it a go, and I'm so glad I did, ah but it was not meant to be. The idea of me as a bass player in this reality? Just one more thing I can put into the metaphorical holy compost bin. Onwards and upwards!
GRATITUDE TO OLD TEACHERS
When we stride or stroll across the frozen lake,
We place our feet where they have never been.
We walk upon the unwalked. But we are uneasy.
Who is down there but our old teachers?
Water that once could take no human weight-
We were students then - holds up our feet,
And goes on ahead of us for a mile.
Beneath us the teachers, and around us the stillness.
It really looks like this right now on Capitol Hill. Spectacular!