Invisible Blessings

I’ve heard that hidden away deep in the Himalayas, there are Bodhisattvas— enlightened beings who choose to reincarnate to help heal a suffering humanity— who are secretly meditating to invisibly bless a troubled world. When I went to Zen meditation retreats many years back hidden away at an old Boy Scout Camp on Mt. Baldy in the San Gabriel Mountains of Southern California, I sometimes got the feeling that our small group or 40 or 50 black-robed beings was offering the same kind of solace. Few people knew we were there, but somehow our efforts, awakening at 3 and sitting cross-legged, chanting, walking in silence, radiated out to a world that never was consciously aware of us, but somehow was made a bit less distressed and agitated because of our secret presence and practice. 

 

I’d like to think the same forces are at work here. That tucked away in a “hidden valley” (at Hidden Valley Music Seminars), our efforts to express ourselves through dance, song and music,  to create something of beauty with fellow seekers from widely different cultures, that nine days straight (and one to go) of mystery, magic and miracles, are radiating out to the world beyond our little piece of paradise. Each class I teach continues to feel like a universe unto itself, complete with such joy and laughter, profound moments of soothing silence, powerful moments of dynamic music, deep discussions about the things that really matter. The children we once were, full of innocence and promise and possibility, are alive and free again romping through the playground of our zest for life and the children we teach, the ones we have dedicated ourselves to that prompted our gathering here, are present in the room as well. The intensity and density of each day is light years beyond our normal workaday lives and will echo far into each of our futures. 

Yesterday’s delights for me included trips to Jamaica, Zimbabwe, Bolivia, Bavaria and American blues. That night was the always impressive “Untalent Show” where the students get to reveal their talents not always obvious in our scheduled classes. From flamenco to mariachi to Iranian drum solo, original songs, a Chinese story and dance, a magic levitation trick, a hilarious Zumba class to Mozart, a Lindy Hop dance with amazing air work and much, much more, the show joined a long legacy of memorable performance. I got to use piano skills begun 67 years ago with Mrs. Lutz, my teacher who lived down the street, to play a Bach Sonata with Eloi, our recorder teacher, accompany the Offenbach Barcarolle with two opera singers, play an obscure Jobim tune with bass and sax and then end with the traditional Level III lying under the piano and everyone on the floor with lights out while I played the ballad Blame It on My Youth.

 

Today’s classes will bring us to the Ukraine, Bulgaria and Sweden with haunting sung minor harmonies and we’ll prepare a performance for tonight’s sharing from each of the three Levels. Soon—too soon!— we’ll prepare for the final cadence before we return from the retreated world with bliss-bestowing hands. I don’t know what I did to deserve having this in my life, but I am grateful beyond words. On we go.