To Give and Receive

I recently attended Mollie Nye's 100th anniversary on the North Shore in Lynn Valley. There I shared conversation and tea with Jane Thornthwaite, the Liberal MLA for the District of North Vancouver, after having won a new and shiny copper kettle full of bright, autumn-coloured flowers. (See the pot to the right of me.)

The supposed winner of this floral arrangement had missed the call of the draw. I insisted she accept the prize that was meant for her as her number had been drawn. After all, she was busy manning the booth right next to it.

However, since she flatly or politely refused, I graciously accepted her offer. But then did I, really?

When I returned home, I immediately went to my landlady to bestow the gift upon her as I had thought she was sick; her daughter was though so I insisted that they both enjoy it.

It wasn't till a bit later that day when I wondered what message I might be giving to the universe (God), that is, in giving a prize away that I had won and rather quickly too. Was I giving the message that perhaps I wasn't worthy to receive a gift or prize? Or not worth receiving at all? Hmmm.

I realized, or rather relearned that it is truly important to not only give - a great quality of course - but to also receive, and to do so graciously. After all, a giver requires a receiver and vice versa. You cannot have one without the other.

Whether we are speaking about receiving, i.e., accepting the weather (which the forecast initially predicted as rain and cool temperatures, yet later greeted us with bright sun and warmer degrees instead), or serving tea, or winning a gift or prize, it does not matter. The principle applies to all indiscriminately.

Are you willing to give? If so, what are you willing to give? And are you willing to receive? Are you limited to what you will allow yourself to receive?

Part 2: The (Healing) Power of Music

The words I believe that came to me were “The healing power of music” as I listened in stereo sound to the words and music of “Anchor Me” by The Tenors from their album, Lead with Your Heart (www.tenorsmusic.com/music).

The initial few lines reminded me of Josh Groban whose voice I fell in love with back in 2004 over stereo headphones – how could I not?! – with a similar themed song “You Raise Me Up” the first piece of music of his that I heard: WOW!

Here is a rendition of “You Raise Me Up” with Josh singing with the famous African Children’s Choir: www.youtube.com/watch?v=0OOhd6R2EiY. (If you ever get a chance, I highly recommend you hear this choir sing live as they are beautiful and amazing fireballs of energy and love.) Here is another version without children http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Beloi9yluaI if you prefer. (I would love for Josh to sing this with David Foster playing piano, especially since David was instrumental in having Josh sing this song in the first place. Both are so talented and musically inspiring.)

It wasn’t till I listened to variations of these two songs a number of times that I realized why they reminded me of each other. In “Anchor Me,” the line “will you come and anchor me” resembles the words and musical notes of “until you come and sit awhile with me” in “You Raise Me Up.” Also, I find these songs similar in nature in their meaning (at least to me) as well as the emotional theme of sadness/despair, and someone – a particular someone – to buoy one’s spirit.

Both had such a powerful effect on me as they both reverberated strongly within my body sweeping an emotional tide of inner strength and confidence.

How do you find these songs affect you?

Part 1: The (Healing) Power of Music

My choir director said singing in choir is like mindfulness. It took me a moment to comprehend her statement - I thought she meant meditation - while contemplating instances where music brings me to the present, to the sheet music, listening to others sing, hearing harmonious notes, and the like as she said, namely being aware and present. (My apologies for this outdated picture; however, it's the one that best captures the essence of this posting!)

I believe that dancing and walking, at times, are my primary forms of meditation. However, I can see that singing can be as well, during choir at least for me, as so often I sing while doing something else. For example, I may sing while I work (more so in past) or walking or bathing. This is why it took me a moment to understand her comment.

I have always loved music, have felt its deep and powerful influence – it’s no wonder I didn’t become a music therapist – as music moves me figuratively and literally, the latter as I have a hard time sitting still while listening to music, whether I am part of an audience or not. My body cannot help but to move while I sit, even if it is only my head nodding slightly or one foot tapping. I question how people can sit like a rock, especially when listening to infectious or contagiously happy music.

Does your body feel inclined to move when you hear music or not? (There is no right or wrong answer here by the way.)

Music moves me emotionally as well, primarily to the two seemingly extreme opposite emotions of joy and sadness. I say that as there is actually a fine line between the two. (One place I experienced this was in David McMurray Smith’s clowning class, www.fantasticspace.com/about.htm). If you haven’t experienced this personally, you probably witnessed it. For instance, young children and infants in particular can cry one moment and then laugh the next, and vice versa.

I have been moved to tears more often than not as a cathartically healing expression of music, sometimes to tears of joy as a result of such exquisite ethereal-sounding music, usually instrumental or classical. At other times lyrics strike a resonant chord within me, especially when they imitate my life which fuels teary eyes.

What I have come to notice over the years is that I tend to, almost always if not always, hear the music first. If I like it – I’m drawn to the beat first and foremost – then I’m inclined to listen to the words. It’s rarely the other way around. Besides, quite often music drowns out the words in songs.

Do you find that you too tend to hear the music before the words in a song?

Music is so healing, isn’t it?

It can be a vehicle for emotional catharsis whether you are releasing or uplifting your spirit. And it is such a collective universal soul experience: one common language we have as a race of people on planet earth.

What types of music do you find healing? Is there a particular genre that soothes and calms you? Settles and grounds you? Inspires you? Buoys your spirit?

Part 4: In a Funk - How I Got Out!

Though the causes of my depression aren’t as important now as they used to be, I’m (still) curious. However, I believe it’s important for me to pose the questions - see previous blog post, August 25th - since I don’t have concrete answers, as someone (or some of you) might be able to relate upon reading this, thus connecting the dots for you and/or for your loved ones.

In my August 25th posting I wrote, “More recently, could I have felt blue due to two work colleagues who left within the same week, and the director the following week (and all the ramifications associated with that, too many to mention here)? Could I feel like my soul isn’t growing like I’d like it to? Could I feel sad ‘cause I feel to blame and bad about my dream or vision not being fulfilled?

I suspect these points, especially the last one is closer to the truth for me for feeling downhearted as I remembered that I felt somewhat similar last year when my non-traditional, co-creative children’s choir didn’t come to fruition. I truly believe that the expectation(s) and the potential downfall, i.e., fear of failure brought me spiralling down. Yes, even before I realized that at least two children had registered!"

Through a coaching call that I had made two days prior (July 3rd) to my previous post, I became aware that the same feeling and situation occurred about a year ago when I attempted to launch my dream then! Ahha, there’s the culprit!

It was also pointed out to me through questioning during this call, that my state of funk was most likely due to me not living my passions. Other than my creative writing for my blog which I thoroughly enjoy and singing at choir practice - my heart hadn’t been in it for a few weeks at least - I wasn’t singing otherwise or dancing, another of my top passions.

Do you ever feel that way, i.e., like your heart and soul just can’t get into your passions? And what do you do when you get that way?

If you ever feel depressed or blue, do you ask yourself questions? If not, what questions could you ask? Could they help you to understand and overcome your state? Or what else could you do?