Closing Shop

After the wonderful sharings, I did a quick review of the 5-days following my outline. Singing the beginning of each tune, reviewing a bit of the process of development, performing the body percussion patterns for them to film. I’ve long believed that all things are created thrice— in the imagination preparing for an event, in the actual doing and living of the event and finally in the reflection, reviewing and looking back at it all. The live review was one strategy for this third stage, the written notes to come another and then their own photos/ videos/ memories yet another. 

 

Now was the time for certificates. When photography first came into widespread use, there was an idea from indigenous pieces that a photo steals your soul. Let’s hope they’re wrong, as I had already posed for a couple of hundred photos with people during the week and now there was the line of 110 folks getting one (or five—the photographer rarely does one) more proudly displaying their certificate with the habitual “thumbs up” pose. 

 

The timing ended up perfect, as I had 15 minutes to teach them a final 3-part canon—Da Pacem Domine. When we were ready, we began to sing it holding hands and walking in a spiral toward the center, keeping the words “Give us peace, our Lord, in this present day” in our hearts alongside the power of voices joined so artfully in song and passing each other as we spiralled. We hit the final cadence at 4:29, a moment of silence and then my final words which they echoed:

 

“Uh-huh. Oh yeah, All right. Once more? 

 Uh-huh. Oh yeah, All right. That’s all.”

 

Boom! 4:30 exactly and some spontaneous hugs and there were some in tears, which of course, was the point and made me happy to see. This life of some 30 hours that we lived together these past five days was filled with powerful music, joyful dance, a playful spirit rare for adults in any culture to experience. Ancestors were called in to witness, descendants were kept in mind as to our purpose here and the beauty in each person linked inextricably with fellow humans was palpable and present each minute of the 30 hours.

 

As to “once more?,” it was clear that so many wanted more and so did I. Some of the kids I made a special connection with said, “See you next year” and I hope they actually will. (See next post for more on this unique venue of kids joining in with their parents.) When I return to SF, I hope to check when I first taught in China. Possibly 2003 or 2004. But definitely 2006, 2012, 2018 and 2024, which is mysterious— four times, once every six years. (I believe 6 is a lucky number in Chinese lore). I mentioned this at a farewell dinner last night and said, “I hope I don’t have to wait until 2030 before returning!” Mostly I’m at peace with being 73-years old, but this is when it gets a bit disturbing. That endless future that always lay before me now with some realistic boundaries and borders. We shall see.

 

Meanwhile, I write this on the bullet train to Shanghai, a refreshing change from flying. A new 5-day life awaits me on Monday. I am ready. (8/24)