The Thorn and the Rose

Now into Day Four of my  Jazz Course in New Orleans, sunny, hot and not a drop of rain in sight. Every day with the 17 students a step in the cool, refreshing water of bliss. A lovely group of people, not a single one rubbing against the grain of group cohesion and the unusual situation that two are brothers, two are mother and daughter, two are husband and wife and four all finished Level III with me recently. The teaching is effortlessly doing its work of broadening the smiles the students enter class with. It feels like we’re  bringing the Ancestors into the room as the music they created that sustained them lives on in the present and will be passed to the children into the future. It certainly is bringing the people into the room into deep communion with their own musical selves in company with each other, forging friendships that often keep echoing for a long time into the future. 

All of it made yet more rich by living this beauty in the place where so much of it was forged (New Orleans!) and in company with three of my jazz bandmates who are sharing the transmission with me so that I might some day pass the baton to them. I love being with them, I love the way they're teaching, I love the way they're aware of the other students and jumping in without being asked to offer help or affirmation. And at night, the four of us often meet the students out on the town to hear some great jazz in the dozens of clubs available. After a meal at some great restaurants!

 

But there is a canker in the rose. In a soul-stirring correspondence with a new friend in Korea, she recently wrote to me: 

 

You wrote that my life seemed to be filled with “exciting, lovely, and disturbing things all at once.” I smiled when I read that, because it felt so true.And perhaps most lives are like that — full of such things all at once. Maybe the difference lies in which part lasts longer, which part we give more weight to, and how we choose to receive it.

 

This morning, I wrote this back to her:

 

Like you, my life is also exciting, lovely and disturbing all at once. Without going into details, I have a relationship with someone that we’ve been cultivating for some eight years now that has been profound and meaningful to us both. For (to me) completely inexplicable and confusing reasons, there is suddenly a change in tone from his end and despite a long conversation trying to get below the surface of what's going on, it feels like he is refusing to own his part in the dynamic and the tension continues. I find it sad, confusing and disturbing, a heavy shadow amidst the joy. So as you say, my job is to decide how much weight to give to it and choose how to receive it. At the moment, not doing well with that! 

 

But on we go, about to dance some Lindy Hop and play a Count Basie Big Band tune. Despite my hopes, all gathered in my new book, music alone never solves all. But just maybe I can dance out my disturbance and release it to the winds. Or to use the title metaphor, choose to hold the stem away from the thorn and keep smelling the rose. Wish me luck!