I think I saw this on a bumper sticker somewhere, but it came to
mind again in our caroling party. We started the party singing to a dear
neighbor in hospice care and ended boarding the N-Judah streetcar in a Carol
Flashmob making the comfortable passengers momentarily uncomfortable, joyfully
and exuberantly inviting them to come out of their private streetcar-riding
shells and sing along with the person sitting next to them. Music is my medium
to offer comfort and healing to this suffering world and equally my medium to
try to break through the gated communities of arrogant privilege and invite
folks out into the dancing circle.
It has turned out be a blessing that I didn’t have the talent,
training, ambition nor the discipline to treat music as a stepping-stone to
concert fame and fortune. But I kept it by my side just about every day since
my first organ lesson at six-years old and built a life around teaching it to
children and adults. I was lucky to stumble into an approach that treated each
musical moment, whatever the age or circumstance, as a reaching-out to a beauty
as sublime as the highest concert art. I’ve had three-year olds play a few
notes on the glockenspiel that penetrate as deeply as YoYo Ma playing Bach,
accompanied a 93-year old amateur singer in her rendition of on old jazz
standard that would have moved Billie Holiday.
And so comforting the afflicted. Not only singing for a hospice
patient nor playing at “Old Age homes,” but simply being present to the power
of music to soothe, ease pain, increase pleasure, energize, connect, heal. Like
the four-year old who exclaimed at the end of our Preschool Singing Time, “I
don’t feel so sad now.” The afflicted are not only the sick or infirm or
emotionally distressed—they are all of us
at different times and in different degrees. This is no do-good charity work
for the poor unfortunate amongst us—it’s singing out our shared sorrows and
joys.
It’s also about comforting the afflicted parts of ourselves—our
aches, pains, childhood traumas, adult disappointments, unrequited loves, our
despairs, angers, depressions. Music alone won’t cure, but will give us the
strength to move on and give us a means to move into grief, not just push it
away with loud disco, but to enter the fray with Mozart’s Requiem or Coltrane’s
A Love Supreme.
And afflicting the comfortable. Nothing wrong with being
comfortable—I turn the heat on first thing on a cold morning and because my
bills are paid at the end of each month, I can turn my attention to more
uplifting matters. But sometimes physical, mental and financial comfort become
the centerpiece of our ambition and it does no good to our soul or spirit, puts
them to sleep. And leaks into the political when we want to make sure our
privilege is protected and we start to cause harm to those who need our help. Trump’s
wealth could allow him to ease the suffering of hard-working poor and
marginalized people, but he chooses time and time again to afflict them further
with the barbs of his selfish power.
We listen to Mozart these days like New Age pablum designed to
keep us comfortable and mellow, but his biographer Maynard Solomon insisted
that his real role was to “disturb the slumber of the world.” And again, that
means the overly-comfortable parts within ourselves. An older definition of
“afflict” is "to overthrow, defeat, to humble” and that means to overpower our
own complacency, our sense that we’ve done enough and ain’t no one, especially
ourselves, that’s going to move us out of our comfort zone. Again, what a
blessing that I entered a pedagogical path based on risk, one that demands
constant re-imagining, re-inventing. With modest success in my career, I could
easily repeat the same tried-and-true pieces and processes I’ve developed and
call it a day. But what kind of life would that be? When each year after the school plays or Spring Concert, a
parent says “That was the best yet!”, it’s an affirmation that the effort to
keep moving forward has paid off.
“Comforted the afflicted, afflicted the comfortable.” I’m adding
it to my six-word bio list.
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