At this liminal moment, the things on my mind may or may not have anything to do with what I have been writing about recently. And I guess that is OK.
I have been yearning to have some kind of small, hand-held musical instrument. Despite having been to two excellent organ recitals recently, I know that my organist days are over. Just to play the organ for a few minutes would involve letting a church know that I am reasonably skilled on the instrument, which would then lead to requests to play for services somewhere (not to mention a ton of practicing!). But I just cannot play/sing/or otherwise lead congregations in traditional hymns and music anymore. I miss playing Bach (perhaps somewhere, somehow, I can sit down and play the St. Anne Fugue again!), and I'd love to pull out all the stops and play a few hymns in an empty church, but that's about it. As you can imagine, it is not the right instrument for small-scale, personal playing. Over the winter, I occasionally thought a small drum would be fun, but oddly enough, what had begun to appeal was a rattle.
Yesterday, as I was shuffling my oracle cards, that thought entered my mind, then, seriously, what card do I blindly pick but "Rattle"? The book speaks of shamans using rattles to connect with Spirit, and their efficacy as tools for moving forward in an earth-friendly way. I had had other plans for yesterday, but I decided to brave downtown's "colder by the lake", and took the bus to the one shop that seemed likely to carry them. Sure enough, a small selection was available, and I am now the proud owner of a pair of South American gourd rattles. For a little while this morning, I tried to get used to the sounds and the rhythms I can tap with them. And I was struck by the implied contrast between me, sitting on an old couch in Duluth, Minnesota, using a pair of rattles, and my English church music peeps, marching in stately lines and in dark choir robes and long white cottas into cathedral choir stalls to sing choral evensong. For perhaps the first time in my life, I wasn't nostalgic or ironic or embarrassed. I just embraced how wild it is that my life has encompassed such a wide spectrum.
An unrelated funny thought has been on my mind recently. We Americans think of ourselves as the freest people on the planet. And relative to most countries, this is undoubtedly true. In small and larger ways, we have an outrageous number of options; brands and types of toothpaste, salsa, automobiles, health insurance plans, jobs, housing situations...you name it, we are free to try them all. But it has hit me, there is one area where we basically have no option, and that is to function within our capitalist economic system. What if, at the age of 18, everyone sat down with a wise counselor, and we could decide what system was best for us? For some, it would certainly be the system in place. For some, its opposite or democratic socialism. For some, a bartering economy. For some, a gifting economy. For someone like me, there would be no money at all...love, art and beauty, and joy would be the "currency". I can even imagine American-style advertising, all these systems saying "choose me, choose me", and there being absolutely no more shame in one's decision than there is in opting for decaf latte over espresso. Of course, there is probably no practical way this would ever happen. But it's an interesting thought, isn't it?!
