Piano learnings again

Learning to play the piano is increasingly becoming like learning to meditate. Trying too hard, feeling tense about it, not breathing etc. When I tense I hit all of the notes hard, too hard. If I try to do it soft it goes too quiet. I need to find soft but firm/precise and this comes sometimes when I relax and let it happen. So it is not about how many hours I practice per se, its’ about my attitude and state of mind. It is really slow. It’s slow learning and the pleasure has to be in the moment. When I end the final bit of Morning by Grieg with a bit of a thrash, I smile. I know that’s not really it. But I enjoy the thrash And I know that will set me up for a quieter gentler version of Clare de Lune that I usually play next. And when that happens that sets me up for the rest of the day. About 25 or so years ago I read a spiritual book by John Diamond and he said that when you are playing, even just to yourself imagine that someone is listening and play it for them, I like that idea.

I am winner

I know this is not that readable but if you click on the cutting it should come up clear. Thanks to Graham for nudging me about thi!s

Postcards

Postcards

1) Woke up
Hung over
God what a night!
The singing
The drinking
The vomit
The fighting
Crawling home late very late

2) Taking the pledge
At least for today for tonight
Taking really talking
And listening really listening
What a strange creature she is

3) Out in the sun and rain
Calves aching and thirsty
Blissful sunset
A view to die for
Company OK

4) In my place again
The fire of conflict
The embers of desire
The cold splash of rejection
The bitter taste of sorry
Never again until again.

The Boss once more consults Q his spiritual director


- Hi Q.

- Hi Boss.

Q was as ever sitting placidly and comfortably in an old armchair in his warm study which was almost like a like monk’s cell part from the overflowing bookshelves, the statue f Buddha, the Celtic Cross and some Greek icons.

There was as silence, a sense of calm in the air, an unhurriedness that sharply contrasted the jangliness that the Boss was feeling.

- Q, I’ve just fallen out with my church.

- Oh?

- Yes, not over theology or anything like that…. And I still enjoy worship when I go there… But it’s the people.

- Oh.

- Yes the people. I find them hard to be with and I don’t think they like me.

- Tell me more.

- Well I still care about some of them.. most of them… and I would do almost anything if someone was in trouble and I could help them. But I can’t do tasks for my church anymore. I just can’t…. (The Boss buried his head in his hands.)

- That’s OK.

- It is?

- Yes, it’s being truthful and that’s so important.

The Boss nodded unable to speak, unable to trust himself to speak without breaking down into tears.

- You know your favourite bit from Ecclesiastes?

- You mean ‘There’s a time to ever purpose under Heaven’?

- Yes…. Well. Try thinking of this in that way.

- There’s a purpose to my falling out with my church!?

- Yes.

- Oh…. So it’s not just my neurosis.

Q frowned at this phrase. He then said,

- Let’s suck it and see.

The Boss smiled at Q’s use of slang before asking plaintively

- But what do I do? …. It’s difficult being in this place I am now in.

- What else can you do? Where else can you be?

- Oh….hmm…nowhere.

- Then maybe that’s where you need to be, forgive me for saying that’s where God needs you to be.

- Oh….what on earth could God want me to be here for?

- Good question!

Q smiled, the Boss smiled rather weakly and breathed a bit more easily.

- You are always in God’s hands.

- I am.

- Even, or especially when you don’t know it.

The Boss nodded not trusting himself to speak. A deep silence enveloped the Boss and Q.

Music making

In recent weeks I have been learning Clare de Lune on the piano. There's a beauty and a softness to it that sometimes comes out in my playing especially on my piano teacher Rebecca's lovely piano. I can actually hear the difference. I can't yet control this softness or rather I can't just let it happen. I'm too tense some of the time but when it can come through it's wonderful. So piano playing becoese like a mediative spiritual journey. Not suprisingly my best playing is usually first thing in the morning after my early morning yoga practice - 10 minutes a day, every day now for six weeks. Then walk round to the bus stop with my daughter,, then bike ride to work and then its down hill all the way :)

Terry's book

I spoke at a book launch last night in the bookshop at Manchester Cathedral. My good friend Terry Biddington was launching his 'Recipies for good living: the beginner's guide to spirituality'. It is well worth reading. there's a couple of good reveiws on Amazon: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Recipes-Good-Living-Beginners-Spirituality/dp/1846949025/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1349855561&sr=1-1

New mystic (3)

- The explosion took everybody by surprise. Luckily no one was that near to Rachel’s canal boat when it blew up with a satisfying whumph sound. No other boats were moored nearby and it being a wet night there were very few people out- - So who did it? - That’s the sixty four thousand dollar question! - And? - And… you want to know who we have in the frame? - Yeah! - No-one… or at least no-one we can arrest. - And? - You’re getting a bit like a speaking clock. (They both laughed.) - Word on the streets is that Jan might be involved. Paul raised a quizzical eyebrow, - How come? - Well, word is (why did Mickey always talk in such clichés wondered Paul) that someone has been smuggling refugees into Manchester and Jan doesn’t like it as that’s part of his business. - Rachel?... Smuggling refugees?.... In her canal boat?… I don’t get it. - It seems unlikely to me, but it is a great way of moving people without anyone really knowing. I mean who watches the canals… and it would be so easy to hide some one in the boat. - Maybe… but I still don’t see Rachel being at all mixed up in this. - Well we are going to be asking her all the same. - Do you mind if I have a work with Jan? He’s more likely to talk to me than he is to you and yours. - No probs Paul. (Paul winced at Mickey’s use of slang.) Mickey left soon after leaving Paul nursing his second cappuccino and wondering whether he really wanted to meet with Jan. No way, but he would do almost anything to help Rachel. The trouble was he was beginning to feel his credit was running out with Jan and he didn’t want to be in his debt. Later at Sandbar Paul met with Jan. Why had Jan suggested Sandbar puzzled Paul. It was a fairly visible place for a notorious gang leader to be seen in. But maybe that was part of Jan’s strategy. Or maybe he just didn’t care? They met in the back room which involved crossing an old cobbled floor that had a very Victorian look to it – it certainly hadn’t been changed much in years. Who knows what wheeling and dealing those cobbles had witnessed. Sandbar itself was an arty, studenty pub off Oxford Road, a bit like Fuel but a whole lot less punky and less female. The cappuccino was as excellent though. Jan was as ever quiet spoken, well dressed and seemingly a gentle soul with sharp blue eyes, blond short hair, average height and the body of a man who worked out regularly at the gym. Curiously Paul trusted Jan or at least trusted him to be as good as his word. Like it or not Jan delivered. If he promised you money or some service that was what you got. He expected the same from you and if you did not deliver more fool you. There were plenty of people who had visited A & E departments having learnt this lesson the hard way. The ones who ended up in the River Mersey would have told the same story in stronger language if they had been alive enough to speak. Which they weren’t! Indeed their bodies were rarely found so even that part of the story rarely got told. But someone the word got around and Jan standing was not lessened by the extra spin put on these stories. - So what do you want Paul? - Well there was an explosion on a canal boat near Altrincham last night. - Yeah I know. - Why? - Why? - Yeah why was it blown up? - You reckon I know? - Do you? - Suppose I did… why do you want to know? - The boat belongs to a friend of mine who is already in deep trouble with the police. - Girl friend? - No, piano teacher… how did you know it was a she? Jan laughed, - It’s my job to know these things. - OK tell me what is going on. - Let’s just say that someone has been messing with my patch… - And blowing up the boat was a warning? Jan shrugged. - Who was it? - Blowing the boat? - No, on your patch? - Well certainly not your piano teacher… but she needs to be careful who she hangs out with. - Yeah? - Yeah… the thing is- one of Jan’s associates poked his head round the door and nodded in reply to Jan’s unspoken question -…got to dash Paul. - Who? - Watch the Yank! With that Jan left flanked by his associate.