In The Weeds — Can We Get Up and Sing When the Brain Goes “Blooie!”?

Abandoned red Ford truck on tall forest ferns.

Photo: Grateful thanks to Anastase Maragos on Unsplash!

One of the lessons that God seems to want to teach us is that He doesn’t pay a great deal of attention to our faults and weaknesses, because He simply isn’t interested. Instead, He is concerned only with our continual improvement.

One of the ways He prods us to approach him with childlike trust is by removing our powers of rational thought. God reaches in the bathtub and unties the water wings of our logical mentation, then waits to see how we paddle.

This often happens when we would least welcome it – for example, when we’re preparing to do something scary, like stand up before an audience and give a talk or a musical performance.

Not long ago, our choir was scheduled to sing at Sunday service. I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep for two nights, and when Sunday morning rolled around, my brain was a negligible quantity.

Nevertheless, I knew that if I didn’t offer myself to God, nothing pleasant was likely to happen. So I prayed, as I usually do, that He bless us to inspire the audience to seek His love and joy in their souls.

Still, I had doubts, because I had seldom been so comprehensively deflated. But then I thought of a fellow in Tennessee who locates old, rusted-out abandoned cars and restores them to running condition. Derek Bieri is a big-hearted master mechanic with a huge following on YouTube, where his Vice Grip Garage channel has 2.4 million subscribers and 728 million views.

As I sat in a pathetic imitation of meditation, brain drooling, I thought of Derek’s endless patience as he restores his latest rusting hulk. I then turned to the Guru and prayed with silent laughter, “Okay, Master, I’m here in the weeds, all rusted-out and utterly worthless. I can only offer myself wholeheartedly. The rest is up to you!”

What happened next took my breath away. As the song began, I felt it flowing from its astral source in its full, untainted purity. I’ve never sung with a deeper awareness of the healing power of the music and the beauty of its strains. It was a life-changing moment that transformed how I understand all of Swami Kriyananda’s music.

I believe the spiritual lesson is both simple and profound. Whenever we find ourselves committed to serving, and our brain and body are useless on the day, I heartily recommend that we see ourself as a rusty wreck abandoned in the green grass, and pray to God as a master mechanic whose pleasure is to love and restore us. I believe these tests are given to teach us to turn to Him in childlike loving trust even when we’re feeling a very long way short of our best.