Bon matin, mon cherie!

I woke up in a luscious bed feeling fabulous still rendevous-ing avec moi in the hill country in springtime without feeling lack of any kind (see previous post Rendevous Romantique Pour Un). Birds were singing, the sun was hiding behind the clouds and it was cool and misty.

I walked downstairs and ate a croissant. Memories of croissant aux almondes in Paris. I loved Paris. So romantic. One of the reasons I picked this room was that it had a balcony off the bedroom with a table and chairs. I love to picnic and eat at cafes with outdoor seating.

I hadn't had a chance to check out the grounds yesterday so that was my morning plan.

I strapped on my guitar and wandered around to the strains of Opus 6, No. 1 by Fernando Sor and 14 Minietudes by J. Maurice Mourat. There were two greenhouses and this solarium with a water feature and koi.

There were numerous waterfalls and plants.

Only a very few mosquitoes out, not enough to dampen my spirit.

There's a saying that goes something like this: when you wake up in the morning alone with over half a bottle of champagne left over because the person you were going to share it with has just fallen in love with another, make a mimosa!

And so I did and had a lovely breakfast on my balcony serenaded by birds with the waterfalls gently murmuring 'you are loved, you are loved' in the background. I was really enjoying the lack of gadgetry. No roll out of bed and check facebook ritual this morning. No email or phone call to return. I was delightfully out of cell range. I was on the range. Home on the range.

I showered and then packed up singing, alternating between Amarilli, mia bella by Caccini and Danza, danza fancuilla gentile by Durante accompanied by my computer and speakers. I did have electricity here. I belted out the last melismatic phrase of Amarilli standing on the bumper of my truck and then swung in and headed to the main compound with the lake. Enchanted Lake.

They were preparing for a wedding. I moseyed over and found a table and chair and put my feet up. I shared some words with one of the workers and he generously offered to go find some oars so I could take a spin on the lake.

I accepted the offer and grabbed my guitar, rolled up my jeans and paddled out.

I proceeded to serenade the setup crew and a lone fisherman before heading back home. To home on the coastal plain.

Though not what I had originally envisioned, it was perfect just the same. I felt free. I had forgotten the magical feeling of being on the road, visiting new places, meeting new people - the feeling of anything-is-possible, of no rush, of everything falling into place just the way it is supposed to. I took a photograph in college once in Big Bend National Park of my feet in front of the desertscape and it was titled 'With, Not By,' meaning 'with myself, but not by myself.' It's a subtle difference, one where instead of empty, I feel full and present. Comfortable in my skin.

May we all feel fully embodied, full of love with nothing lacking and nothing needing to change. Big Texas-sized hugs to all y'all!!

Rendevous Romantique Pour Un

While I saute some garlic, and listen to Dido and Norah Jones, let me fill you in on my day… Nine and three quarter hours earlier…

I thought an oil change would be good since I’m 1500 miles overdue and heading toward the hill country after class. Going to see some bluebonnets and hang out with my guitar. Alone. Wasn’t planned that way. Bought a groupon for a romantic getaway complete with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries with my new sweetie in mind: poet and seeker, Michael, who I met on New Year’s Eve. Our new relationship has had some twists and turns and this was the second time I was planning the getaway. Thought it would work out this time. Yes, man plans and God laughs, as the saying goes. We found a time that would work for us both, I booked it, and then he fell head over heels for another with no time left for me to get a refund. The owner, Carol, suggested I invite a girlfriend, but I thought it might be good to just take my best friend, my guitar – the one I bought on layaway when I was nineteen – who’s seen me through a divorce and several post-divorce breakups.

I had a voice lesson at 2 pm so I practiced for an hour and then went to change the oil before school, but when I started the car, it sounded terrible. It’s been running rough for a few weeks now. I popped the hood and my battery was knocking into the engine. My car wouldn’t start last week so I took out the battery and had it checked out. Turns out it was still good, but I needed to clean the terminals and connections. I couldn’t get it to fit in again just right. It’s smaller than the original battery. So now I’ve got a couple of problems and I’m supposed to be going out of town so I don’t end up wasting my romantic reservation at Blisswood, the hill country B&B. Now, I don’t have time before class so I clunk my way over to school, have a fabulous lesson with April, my fabulous teacher, and head into town to find a mechanic.

I hadn’t found a local mechanic or oil change establishment yet. I moved here last July and had been going back to Galveston each time and was planning to do that today but now time was running short so I headed into my new town to see what I could find. I saw a Jiffy Lube and headed in. When a woman approached, I asked her if she knew of a family owned place because I hate chains and also something was wrong with my car. She was very helpful and steered me toward a local gas station that did oil changes and had real mechanics. I thanked her and headed over. The mechanic that greeted me reminded of my Dad. Dad had been a quiet, no nonsense military man, a ship’s mechanic. This gentleman, Bill, listened to my complaints and said, ‘Let’s start with the oil change and go from there.’ I felt in good hands.

I grabbed my guitar and my travel chair and commenced to practice my classical guitar pieces for class. I had recently attended a Master Guitar class with Philip Hii and was very motivated to practice when I could. Lots of people stopped by to chat. I was asked if I knew some Eagles covers, if I was trying to be Janis Joplin, a fellow Texan, and if I knew that Barry White had been from Galveston. Bill returned to tell me my alternator was on the fritz, but he could get me a new one within the half hour. ‘Let’s do it,’ I replied, only grimacing slightly at the $350 price tag. What could I do? More time to practice.

I called the proprietor of the B&B and informed her my car was in the shop and it’s possible I might not make it after all. I wasn’t all that stoked anyway to go solo to the Oasis, which is the part of the property my lodging would be in.

Before I knew it, the truck was purring like a kitten before me and I headed home to pack. I made a peanut sauce, packed some greens from a farmer friend and some garlic. Threw a change of clothes in a bag, hugged Mom and got on the road. 5:30 pm. I might just make it before dark.

I started off singing one of my tunes. Then I listened to Democracy Now with Amy Goodman. Then I turned on a party mix a friend of mine, Adam, gave me when I lived in the desert. It was rockin’ when I approached, fields of bluebonnets in view as the sun was setting.

After having a little trouble finding the right room, I entered Harriet’s House which is really just part of a house. The first thing I did was look around for the champagne and chocolates. They were nowhere to be found. Nor was the continental breakfast for tomorrow. Not only did I not have the romantic partner, I didn’t even have chocolate. This would have to be remedied. Without even bringing in my things, I headed back to town to find Carol. I was a bit upset.

Carol runs a fine dining establishment in the teeny town of Cat Spring. I walked in and a woman I assumed was Carol was on the phone. I looked around. It was a darling place. Rustic. Antlers and white linens. When she was finished with her phone call, I asked if she was Carol and then with difficulty I said there must be some misunderstanding because there wasn’t any chocolate or champagne and now I have to go into the bigger town…. She cut me off and said, ‘Oh, let me get some for you right now.’ ‘Okay,’ I said in mid-upsetedness and as she walked to the kitchen, I thought, ‘Okay, everything is going to be okay.’ She returned and told her I liked her place and I appreciated she served local wines. Then I touched her arm and told her I was sorry I was so upset, but the lack of chocolate reminded me of my lack of a boyfriend. She had forgotten the email I had sent. She then gave my teary self a hug and asked if I’d like a glass of wine. I accepted. 'You really loved him, huh?' she asked. 'Well, no,' I said. 'I mean I loved him, but, ya know how every breakup reminds you of all your other breakups?...like my divorce...' She nodded empathetically.

We spoke a little more and I told her I was turning the evening into a personal musical retreat. Then she remembered my mentioning it in the email and said I have to meet her friend. She steered me over to G. Marie who is a songwriter. I then happily chatted about music with her and her husband (?) and friend until Carol returned with a box with flowers protruding from it. I said goodbye to my new aquaintances. Carol followed me to the car with the box. I told her I hoped to stay up with my guitar ‘til three in the morning like I used to do when I lived in the desert. I put the box in the car and gave her a hug. ‘You’re wonderful,’ she said as we both laughed. As I drove away, I thought it had been perfect that the champagne and chocolate covered strawberries had been missing because otherwise I would not have met her and she’s a quite lovely woman. It was comforting to connect in my vulnerability instead of isolating which I usually do.

So now I’m in Harriet’s House, sauteeing some garlic, about to add some swiss chard and open the bottle of champagne. I must think of an appropriate toast…

…pop…I raise my glass to all beings and toast the beauty and grace that always surrounds us whether we can see it or not...

...I made it! It is 3:31 am. I didn’t do justice on the bottle of champagne – sorry my grape friends L – but I ate all the strawberries…

Dinner was wonderful. Texmati brown rice with Swiss chard with a peanut sauce. It’s one of the things I can throw together without a recipe. I used to not be able to do anything without a recipe. I started with a dollop of peanut butter, and added Bragg’s amino acids, some leftover Reisling (I usually use Shiner Bock but was out), some rooster sauce, a little bit of fish sauce, some sesame oil and a splash of lemon juice. I ran out of Bragg’s so it was thicker than usual and so I didn’t have to add any cornstarch/water mixture to the pan to thicken it. My grandma likes my peanut sauce, but my Mom is not too crazy about it.

‘Estoy contenta…’ is the thought I was left with. I enjoy cooking. It always makes me feel close to my Dad. He liked to cook. We were either watching sporting events or cooking shows growing up. I particularly remember a cajun chef: ‘Pour a little wine into the pan, drink a little wine…’ My exhusband is a chef and my

My appreciaton for food increased during our time together. As did my time eating formal orioki meals at San Francisco Zen Center. Cooking is something I can lose myself in, like my guitar. I enjoy cooking for others and for myself. I can putter around the kitchen for hours.

However, I immediately succombed to a food coma and crawled under the covers and took a nap.

Afterward, I hopped out, poured another glass of champagne and picked up my guitar.

I started just playing around with some arpeggiated simple chord progressions. Before I got my teaching license and would substitute junior high school, I used to hand out the worksheets and then just pick my guitar while the students worked. And then when everyone was finished, I’d play them a few songs by the Eagles, John Denver, the Indigo Girls or Traci Chapman.

Generally, how I write starts with a vocal melody popping into my head and then I will very painfully try to figure out what chords will best accompany the melody. It entails a lot of trial and error. Sometimes no chord I know sounds good so I might change the melody or set it aside. Sometimes I would forget the melody unless I recorded it quickly. Now that I am learning the piano, I have started to write down the actual notes of the melody which will help tremendously with the accompaniement. I can’t wait for the summer when I can go back over all my old songs and finish some ones I couldn’t before.

I am trying to learn to write more than just accompaniment to my melodies. Mr Kiefer, my guitar teacher, taught me a little about fills and hammer ons and pull offs at the beginning of the semester and now I’m learning some classical pieces. So I was playing around. I still feel like I don’t really know what I am doing but the only way I’ll learn is to get to know my guitar a little better. For years and years, the only thing I ever did was strum basic chords and one simple arpeggio pattern. I learned songs. I never just fooled around on the guitar like some people and it feels uncomfortable. But I stayed with it and discovered I could hammer on and pull off with whole chords, not just individual notes. I used a very simple rhythmic motive – long/short/short – and went back and forth between Em and Am. I couldn’t figure out anything else that sounded good with that, but it was way more rockin than my usual country folk sounding strumming.

I played around with a simple interval – a minor second - Lord knows I could use some ear training practice. I want to make up a song using all the simple intervals so I can finally dial in those pesky rascals – I’ve cried more than once in that class. Makes me feel like I’m brain damaged. It’s unlike anything I have tried to learn before.

Well, that was fun. Now, on to a song. Mr Keifer is allowing me to work on one of my songs to perform for jury. I’m going to fill in some boring parts with some some chord variations and he suggested some more vocal variety like I did with Brown Eyed Girl last semester. I had a lot of fun with it tonight. He had showed me an alternate way of doing my Bm chord – one with a bar and he showed me a Bsus and a B7. I have this one part where there are many bars of the same Bm with a sustained vocal note that I want to spice up. I played around with the new variations trying to find something that would work. It turned out totally cool. At first it sounded bad and didn’t even seem to go at all, but I kept trying and ended up just using the Bsus, but I also changed the strum pattern. This is the repeat of the chorus right after the bridge and the tension remains really high. The words are ‘We tried…….to hold on. We tried…….but only made it worse.’ And then, in the spirit of variation, realized I could spice up the C to and I added a Cadd9 and used the same new strum pattern. It’s a down/up/up.

This song is SO much better than the original, original version I wrote in 2006. I was telling Mr. Keifer that it used to be in the form of A A A A A A A …ad nauseum: the chords were the same for the chorus and the verse. The whole reason I went to the songwriting school last summer was to learn how to vary it and still make it sound good. I didn’t know how the different chords related to each other. I didn’t know anything about theory or chord progressions – I just found chords that matched the melody in my head which I’m sure is a subconscious cut and paste of the many pop and country songs I have heard in my life.

So now, at 4:30, I can go to sleep having spent some quality time with myself and my guitar. Tomorrow before I leave I am going to strap on my guitar and check out the lake and grounds and play and sing with the birds.

No thoughts of loss of Michael. I am really happy for him actually. He has fallen head over heels. Sypathetic joy is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I’m planning to go to his going away party next week and offer a song or two. She will be there and I look forward to meeting her. Only by the grace of God and meditation and lots of excellent teachers and role models could I be this open. It feels really good.

I subscribe to Alanis Morissette’s definition of love in her song ‘Nothing in Return.’ I love him and if she makes him happy then that’s what I want for him. I trust the universe to continue to hold me in its arms and love me til the day I die. And then keep on loving me. Life is like a cadenza. We do our beautiful solo and then blend back into the orchestral heavenly harmony. Amen.

(And I thought this weekend might suck! J )

Kervillicious

Now officially a Kervillian!!

I set off from Galveston with some local farm produce, all my camping supplies and a stomach full of butterflies.  Kerrville Folk Festival or Bust!!  I didn't know quite what to expect.  I had found out about the festival from some people I met at a party in Austin on my way back to Texas from Portland, Oregon back in February.  I had shared some songs at the party and was encouraged to go to the festival.  I was also encouraged to move to Austin which I still may do at some point.  I've only started writing songs since the Divorce and I only learned guitar because I love to sing and was worried I wouldn't fit in, that everyone would be so much better than me, that someone would yell out 'You Suck!', etc. etc.  You know how the mind can start running like a freight train.  

I had a little freak-out at Rockin' Robin Guitars in Houston the day before.  I was painfully aware of my limitations on guitar and was looking for a book or something - like I could take a quick crash course in music theory the night before.  It was raining like a banshee and there I was, dripping, looking like a lost, wet rat in front of the sheet music and books.  I felt so helpless and frustrated and all I kept hearing in my head was a little girl's voice, repeating, 'I just want to sing.  I just want to sing.'  I started crying and the poor guys at the shop didn't know what to do.  One guy kept doing drivebys, seeing if he could help.  He even showed me how to do some scales and I just kept looking through book after book, not really understanding, feeling overwhelmed.  At one point, he came over and just gave me a hug.  I walked out with a pack of picks and some blank manuscript paper for writing songs.  

I swallowed a big 'ol lump of fear and packed up my truck.  When I arrived at the festival, the volunteer who greeted me took one look at me and said, 'You're glad to finally be here, aren't you?'  I don't know what kind of look I had on my face, but I was indeed, glad to have gotten myself there, come what may.  And the adventure began.

I wasn't in the same space as many of the folks there, some coming back year after year.  I wasn't there to party.  I was there to take my stand as a musician, to start where I was, to face my fears and to get some help.  Some motivation, some guidance.  I got all that and more.

The first day of songwriting school, Rick, the director, began talking about the muse, about creativity.  I started crying almost immediately.  

"(Clap!)  From this moment on, you are a successful songwriter.  Put all the angst in a box with the doubt, etc., tie it up with a bow and place it in the garden of life.  When they 'escape', or arise again, give them a little time and then put them back in the box,  retie the bow and place them gently back in the garden.  As you walk away, whisper to them 'Love ya.'

It was exactly what I needed to hear.  I thought it would be all about theory and song structure and technical details.  There was a group of instructors and they all added their expertise and experience.  I was so disarmed.  My heart felt so full.  I had never been so respected or supported in my creativity.  Never was I made to feel less than the others and everyone was so encouraging - so real - so giving.  I didn't understand when we did get to the music theory part (Thanks, Dr. Dick) - I felt like I was back in Oaxaca, Mexico, only understanding every third word or so - and I trusted that the more I am immersed, the more I will learn.  And I was exactly where I needed to be. 

I was delighted to discover that one of the instructors, Billy Jonas (www.billyjonas.com), has in the past taught with the instructor I did a singing workshop with at Esalen Institute over the new year, Claude Stein.  Billy is a bit unconventional and his session was about cultivating our creativity, grounding ourselves on a daily basis in our bodies to support us as we delve into the vulnerable places that great songs come from.  Cliff Eberhart was an inspiring critic - I was amazed to see how he would listen to a participant's song - not the lyrics, but the music - and suggest a chord change or a transition and how it would energize a song, bring it out into relief. Rick was a lyricist and in addition to the opening encouragement and activities for bringing forth our creativity (no such thing as writer's block - see earlier post - Grandfather Tree), he shared some valuable information on song structure and rhyming schemes and told me I had some natural talent with words.  Everyone shared what they knew best in such a down-to-earth collegial way that I was continually moved.  I was beginning to understand why those at the gate greeted everyone with the phrase 'Welcome Home!' 

A huge THANK YOU to the volunteers, instructors and participants of the 2009 Songwriting School.  May we all keep 'saving the world, one song at a time'.

Me and Freebo, one of the instructors - a renowned bass player turned singer-songwriter who highly recommended The Artist's Way.  His music is truly inspiring.

www.freebo.com

Group 1:  Tad, Courtney, Instructor Rick, Lloyd, a guy who came just that one day to audit, and Farrel.

Lewis Childs from Portland, OR

www.LewisChilds.com

We were so stoked after the first day of songwriting school that a few of us kept talking after class seeking refuge in some shade.  Four of us; me, Lewis, Jason and David; took turns sharing songs - we had all been in different groups.  It was one of the highlights for me.  Some of the song circles were really intimidating. Even though I was definitely the least skilled of the bunch (Lewis was amazing), it felt safe for me and the guys were so incredibly nice, appreciating and giving me advice about my songs.  It was so affirming - I tear up thinking about it now - I sometimes still have trouble calling myself a musician!  I grew up thinking I was the serious, nerdy one - definitely not the hip artist type. 

'The Brothers', as Lewis nicknamed Jason and David, playing after school on the last day.  They used to play together in college and met up at the fest as a kind of batchelor party - Jason is getting married in July!!!  Congrats!!

OOooeeeee!  That storm was a doozie!!!  

The canopy never recovered even after lots of duct tape and love.

Some new fans.  They videoed me playing Food on My Plate to use with a kids program.  I thank truck drivers in one verse and he's a truck driver!!!!!

Me and Tyler Jordan, tenting right next door.  

We shared songs at a fire the first night.  He lives in Austin. 

Me and Meredith, one of Tyler's friends.

Me and Alisha, also camped next door with Tyler and friends.  Her hubby drew the South Austin Music mural in Austin.  It's rad and has one of my song school instructors on it.

She's super nice and has a gift shop in Waco.

The Ballad Tree on Chapel Hill

Yours truly at Ballad Tree wearing my 'Born Free' t-shirt

I sang my love song called We Tried, (it's posted about my Utah ex, Ed) one of my ones I have been frustrated with b/c the chorus and verse have the same melody.  Afterwards, David helped me come up with a new melody which meant the rhyming scheme didn't work anymore so I had to change the words.  It is now much much shorter with a totally different chorus and a different tentative title:  Sometimes You Just Have to Walk Away.  It doesn't even have the words 'we tried' anymore, but I may put them back in bridge form or something.  I'm still working on it.  I am also using a capo on the second fret which is helpful for my natural vocal range.  I've had a capo for awhile but never used for anything except for playing one Indigo Girls song that called for a capo.  I didn't really understand it's usefulness.

Jason singing a song about Texas he wrote before ever coming here.  Has a line about a salamander which he changed to have it jumping out of his suitcase which actually happened at a hotel in Kerrville last week.  Some hypothesize it was actually a lizard.

Me, Katie, Tad, Jason and David in the dancing corner by the Main Stage. 

Terri Hendrix and Lloyd Mains 

(two of the instructors at the SongWriting School) 

performing at a Children's Concert

Me and Terri after the show.  She loves to hang out and talk to fans after the shows.  

Katie and I hung out after many of our songwriting cohorts split and decided to write a song together, a song of imprisonment and liberation.  We brainstormed some images and lyrics and I wrote the music for the verse and chorus.  Unfortunately, then she had to go back to Austin.  I went down to the Medina River the next day for a few  hours and fleshed out the rest of the song.  Then I shared it at Steve Gillete's critic circle where the chorus got a thumbs up, but, as usual for me, it was too long.  

I sang it for Tad (www.TadDreis.com) later and he very generously helped me with the song structure.  We cut out two of the verses and he helped me ( drum roll please) ... write my first ever bridge.  I didn't really get how those worked or how you went about writing one.  He actually wrote the music for it and came up with the final words after a discussion of how to make it the liberation piece.  It uses minor chords for a different feel and I really dig it.  He helped me with the teeny intro and the extended prechorus at the end and throwing in an Em in the chorus for the last time around.  It was awesome to leave Kerrville with a new song, one much more musically interesting than most of my others.  It's called Suit of Armor.  It will be a song on the future album:  Shy Girl Blues.  Maybe.  Anyway, it was way cool to collaborate with other musicians.   I was skeptical at first that the story would get lost cutting out so much, but it really seems to work.  Better.  I am now ready to take all my other songs to the chopping block!!!!

Johann Wagner serenades the crowd.  Check him out at jwagnermusic.com

One of the cool hotspots was across from the Kerrtree store at Staff Kerrecords where volunteer staff members played their original tunes and sold their CDs.  Lots of groovy tunes.

Ellie and I at Guitar 101 under the Council Tree

Charlie, Jerry, the instructor, and Anne

Guitar 101.  Dogen (Founder of Zen Buddhism)  said 'Start where you are and practice will occur.'  So I took advantage of the free guitar lessons offered by Jerry who happens to live in Clear Lake, not far from me which means I can continue learning chord progressions, bar chords, arpeggios, and (drum roll please) ... to read music.  I've been wanting to do that for a long time.  By the time I left we were using the first three frets of the first three strings to play Aura Lee and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.  Humble beginnings.....

  

Driving back to Galveston as the sun rises, a song arose as it often does as I drive distances and the chorus so far goes like this (thanks Hat Guy for the inspiration):

Cheeri, Cheerio

He gave me a hug and called me Cheerio.

I knew he'd been down the same road.

Cheeri, Cheerio

He gave me a hug and called me Cheerio.

I knew I'd found a kindred soul.

The whole thing was kind of like that.  So much support, respect, collaboration, and creativity from so many kindred souls expressing themselves courageously, sharing themselves generously.  Saving the world one song at a time.  

The Earth Can't Be Saved Without Peace

I have been working on a song I started in college.  My boyfriend-at-the-time, Jason, bought me a T-shirt at the mall.  It was white and had a big blue Earth with the words 'Open Your Eyes.'  Those are the opening words, the opening line of the chorus.  

My understanding has changed a bit since the time I chanted with my friends and fellow activists at Texas A&M's Texas Environmental Action Coalition 'Save the Trees, save the forests, save ourselves, save ourselves...' as we marched up to the capital building in Austin to protect clearcutting of our state's forests.  I have noticed the separation that is created and/or deepened when there is an 'Us' that is called to action, that loves the Earth, that 'knows' who the bad guys are and a 'Them' who we have to bip on the side of the head, so to speak, with our passionate chants and protests so they can wake the hell up and see things our way.  

As a child who was bipped on the head on occasion, I can tell you that it did not make me more likely to hear what the 'bipper' had to say or make me want to join forces.  And so, I've been editing the song a bit to include what I have learned, to reflect my current strategy for I still hear the call of the Earth.  The one I first heard my freshman year, the year I realized life was about more than shopping malls and boyfriends or being popular.  It was the year I realized I was here for a reason, the year I turned into the weird older sister.  It was the year I suddenly started speaking in front of crowds because I had something I wanted to say, had to say.  People I meet today have a hard time believing I was painfully shy in junior high, but I think most will understand how you can do things you couldn't do for yourself for those you love, and, in my case, for a planet I loved, one I realized I was a part of and that needed my help.

Today, I ran across a video of my teacher at San Francisco Zen Center, Eijun Linda Ruth Cutts.  There are many reasons I was drawn to her in particular, of the many choices there.  She embodies many traits I would like to cultivate in myself and she hears the same cries of the Earth.  

It was she who gave my my Dharma name during the Boddhisattva Initiation Ceremony, the one where I vowed to devote my life to the Boddhisattva Way, to the Truth, to peace.  My name is Chirin Eian:  Earth Companion, Song of Peace. In our tradition, the first part of your name is what your teacher sees manifesting in your life in the present and the second part is what she or he sees manifesting as your practice matures.

   

When I first received the name, my youngest sister thought it very fitting for me - she's known me for awhile. However; aside from the fact that it is hard for people to pronounce, it felt too big to me - I felt like I wasn't doing enough to 'wear' the name.  After all, it had been years since I had been in a protest or written a letter to Congress or even been to a beach cleanup.  So I didn't use it. Until last summer.  I was in retreat and instructed to expand my consciousness to include the natural surroundings (we were meditating outside).  After 'being' a tree, birds, the wind and even a passing car, I heard a loud voice come from beneath me, from the Earth itself and it say boldly 'I AM CHIRIN.'  And I said, 'Okay.' I didn't argue.  It is now my joy to not judge myself as unworthy of the name, but to acknowledge the connection I feel and to discover how that will play out in my life.  I notice I am writing songs and singing.  Because it moves me.  It is my heart's greatest joy.  Tell me what you think about this song.  I have not performed it yet.  I'm still working on the lyrics.

Horizons

Copyright (c) 2009 Linda Daline Limbaugh

E

Open our eyes/minds/hearts/arms,

                              G

The Earth is asking us to open our eyes/minds/hearts/arms,

                                 Am

She's begging us to open our eyes/minds/hearts/arms

                                         D C D

(1)  And see what there is to see/ See what’s happening to you and me

(2)  See other points of view/ Without respect for each other, we're through.

(3)  No need to push people away/ We all really want the same thing.  

(4) Embrace with humility/ Close the space that’s between you and me.

    

               G
To you and me and the birds and the insects and fishes,

       C                                      D

the marine mammals and amphibians.

             G

To the sky and the water, the earth and the forest

C                                   D

How can we just let this all be?

              G

For our sons and our daughters will be born tomorrow

                  C                                          D

(Could we look at them straight in the eye?)

            G

It all starts right here, right here in our own hearts.

  C                                                            D

The Earth won’t be saved without peace.

CHORUS 2

And if we all got together, it’d be so much better.

Can you see how good it all could be?

To live in a world so loving and giving

that asks of us only respect.

There’s no man on Earth who is not my brother,

No woman who is not my sis.

I’ll wait for you here with my heart and hands open.

The Earth won’t be saved without peace.

 

CHORUS 3

 

I don’t understand why we all can’t be happy.

Do all of our dreams have to die?

But it’s not essential to step on each other

To run to the front of the line.

Do you know what you’re buying with that product so cheap.

Let’s take our heads out of the sand.

But without blaming and shaming and pointing our fingers.

There’s no reason we have to be mean.

Nobody’s hands are all clean.

CHORUS 4

Repeat Verse 1

Repeat CHORUS 1

Adlib...The Earth can't be saved/won't be saved/can't be saved without peace.  No matter how hard we try/If there's hatred buried deep inside/We'll keep robbing our brothers/Make bombs and not butter/But the Earth can be saved/will be saved/can be saved by peace/Let's join one another and make of butter/The Earth can be saved by peace...

Tempted to stop the tour in Austin!

My body is fusing to my truck.  More coffee please.

Time to give my truck some lovin'.  Six quarts of oil, a new air filter and wiper blades at a family owned establishment.  I love small towns!!

The worst weather I've seen the whole trip.  I've been superblessed!

Yay!!!  Made it through the late afternoon traffic of Austin (hate cities!), hung out in a local park, wiped out in a wash (the guitar suffered no injuries!), and went to a new local dining hotspot on South 1st with my friend Jason.

I was very excited to see this sign outside.

We started out with some local beer.

Jason and I dated my freshman year of college (gig 'em Aggies!!!), eons ago.  We hadn't seen each other in 13 years.  He is happily married to a musician, Penny Jo, and super into guitars.  He has a resonator which I had never heard of that has an awesome sound without needing an amp.  He is also super into music.  Always was.  Has music posters all over the house.

The food was awesome.  The owner and his wife are dedicated to local food.

This is on every table.  A shout out to the local growers!!!

The Texmati rice is local as are the winter greens.  Yum.

I love that my friends love dogs, cuz then I get to love their dogs.  I got a little choked up from all the love Ruby was dishing out.  This pit bull is a hunk of sweetness - she shared the bed with me, reminding me of my old lab, Sammy.  May he never lack for balls to chase after, and swim to his heart's content!

Oops, forgot his name.  He had to get to know me a little better before he'd give me some lovin'.

Oh, my goodness - have to come back and write about the awesome campfire musicfest next door!!  Totally awesome!!