
<em>Photo: from the conversation</em>
Who doesn’t know this? Just because we love someone it doesn’t mean they’re perfect, or they should be.
Our nature is compartmentalized. We may be good at some things, shining in mind and spirit, and duds or lamentably stupid, blind, or tragically unaware in others.
How can we be wonderful and awful at once? Should we avoid our mixed-nuts friends, or shut them down for their flaws?
The thought occurs: only if they pose a danger, or if the universe conspires impersonally and lovingly to spank them using us to deliver the wallop. But that’s rare, and people seldom improve from being spanked anyway. They change only when it’s unbearable not to, and they’ve found something better.
All that said and out of the way, why the heck shouldn’t we loudly celebrate the good in each other? It is, after all, how God treats us. Years ago, when I made some species of error in the long and grievous line of my life’s comic pratfalls, I had a conversation with Nayaswami Seva, a very senior and highly respected member of her order. I told her what I’d done, and how afterward I had faced God squarely in prayer and admitted the mistake — and how surprised I was when I felt not the slightest hint of judgment or condemnation in reply. I told Seva, “You know, I’m beginning to think that God doesn’t care all that much about our mistakes.” Seva didn’t hesitate; I’d barely finished my sentence when she exclaimed, “I don’t think Divine Mother even notices our faults!”
We can only improve with the help of our strong good qualities, by leaning into that which is loving, kind, compassionate, strong and caring in us. It’s the only way to tame our nasty thoughts: by sinking into a kindly, receptive, humble and loving heart. Rajarshi Janakananda said, “I have come to understand that one-hundred percent of the spiritual path is receptivity.” Opening to the current of perfect goodness that flows constantly in each of us.
Last week I had my life’s 11,999th wrenching lesson. I couldn’t fix a tech issue on a dear friend’s website – I called three folks more technical than I, to no avail. Horribly frustrated, I felt awful. My friend helps thousands with her counsel, and here I was, blocking an important part of the flow.
When it became unbearable, I threw up my hands and told God, “I don’t have anything to do with this website. It’s Yours, not mine. You can help these people, I can’t. I’m not involved, but I’d love to help. You’ll just have to tell me how.” That was when I thought, “Well, moron – call tech support.” Thirty minutes on chat with a lovely support person and the issue was fixed.
I do get a little uneasy when I fall a little bit in love with an artist whose full rounded qualities I cannot know. On the other hand, I feel it’s worth my while to love them, if only for the love they awaken that nourishes me and that I enjoy.
Okay, let’s get specific.
Yesterday I found a lovely documentary on Amazon Prime, “The Wrecking Crew” about a group of session musicians who melded into the busiest, most hired artists you were obliged to call when you wanted to record a hit record from the 1950s through the ’90s.
Of those artists, I was floored by Carol Kaye who played bass electric guitar on tons of hits. The artists who insisted on her presence in the studio are legends; you can peruse her discography here.
I was drawn to Carol not for her fame but by her magnetism. At 78, she radiated a joy that was natural, seamless and human. She’s the kind of person I cheer God for creating.
From seeing Carol on “The Wrecking Crew,” I yearned to spend more time watching her talk and play. In the morning I found an interview that satisfied the wish. (Watch “Carol Kaye – Session Legend Interview.”)
Although it’s a Q&A, it has a power that’s greater than words – Carol is palpably filled with the spirit of her music as she talks and plays demo lines with delight. At around 42 minutes she talks about music as the gift of a higher power.
“It gives you joy in your life. It gives you soul, that soul feeling that there is a God somewhere, that there is something in charge to help us, if we just reach in ourselves and find that beautiful soul that’s in there. And music helps you find it, I’m sure that music helps you find it.
“You know, there’s a connection that music has. There’s a communication that happens. When you play jazz, I know when I was out on dance gigs I’d be playing and I could feel the person’s joy that heard it, and they fed me and I fed them, and it was a communication back and forth. And I’m sure that rock players get that when they play rock gigs, too. You know, it’s just that the music that brings people joy feeds the spirit that we all need to be fed.”
The conversation is loaded with good vibes. Carol radiates the happiness that music can bring when artists and groups have spirit. It’s a delightful doc for anyone connected with music in any way. Carol is Every Artist’s Friend.