An Indian
yogi once told me regarding knowledge, “If you’re thirsty, drink!” Over the years, as a teacher of music and the
guitar, I have had the opportunity to study first-hand the question of thirst
with my students.
I have
observed that all my students seem to come to music and their guitar out of a
thirst for something, and that each of them characterizes that thirst in very
different terms—everything from a way to be popular with their friends, to a
desire to create beauty and meaning in their lives and in the world. Very
different, but I have wondered if there might be a common thread that ties all
these diverse ‘thirsts’ together?
And after
decades of teaching hundreds of students, I have concluded that there is a
common thread, and to borrow the word from the old yogi, it is a thirst
for sanity in and through music, but what is this connection between sanity and
music, or more broadly, between sanity and the arts? Let’s first consider
sanity, and what it represents.
First,
consider the opposite, insanity. Its qualities are disturbed, chaotic,
painful, delusion, unhappiness, speedup, etc. Sanity, on the other hand, is
represented by qualities of lucidity, peace, knowledge, happiness,
understanding, clarity, etc.
When I was a
child, the only thing that made sense to me was music, not the idea of music,
but music itself. Music was the only thing that calmed me down; it spoke to me
without words; it had the ring of truth; it was mysterious and mystical. Was I
conscious of all this at the time? Could I express it in the way I am expressing
it right now? Probably not, but the sense of it all was there—right from the
beginning. How many times have I observed students arriving for their lessons
in states that could objectively be called insane—minds sped up, dwelling on past,
obsessing about the future—and yet they somehow made the effort to come for
their lesson. Why? How? I must conclude that it is sanity that they are
reaching out for—like a person drowning at sea and reaching out for anything
floating that can save them.
I consistently
do a yearly review with each of my students. We look back over their
accomplishments and disappointments and set some goals and aims for the
following year. After the first year of covid, the year almost everything was
locked down worldwide and people were unsure of almost everything, all my
lessons were conducted online. At the end of the year, I did my usual reviews,
and to my surprise, I noticed that all my students had had very successful
musical years, but even more surprising was that in all the reviews, not one
student even mentioned Covid! Covid had not even touched their music, i.e., their
music had been a real refuge for them in those difficult times.
Music can be
a nearly perfect refuge; it is inherently sane, lucid, self-sustaining, and
independent, but it is affected by external life and the internal baggage
that we bring to it. In and of itself, musical satisfaction is very achievable
given the right student, the right teacher, and the right occasion. The process
itself, though difficult at times, is not all that complicated, confusing, or unreachable,
and all the feelings and perceptions to the contrary are the result of the
personal baggage we bring to the process.
So, what is
this baggage, and can it be eliminated or at least neutralized to some extent? Simply
put, some of the most common baggage one brings to their music are feelings of
unworthiness, insecurity, lack of self-confidence, unproductive learning habits,
and impatience, etc. Dealing with this baggage, not the music itself, is the
real work of most students and the right teacher can help.
I cannot
even count the number of times I’ve had this same conversation with a student—students
from beginners to more advanced.
Student: “This
should not be taking so long, I’m really frustrated; I’m really slow.”
Me: “What
makes you say that, on what are you basing your conclusion?”
S.: “I just
know…”
M: “Look,
I’ve taught hundreds of students. I have a much better perspective from which to
evaluate a student’s progress and I tell you; you are doing just fine; you are
exactly where you need to be. Try to worry less, stay in the moment, and just
stay with the work the stands right in front of you.”
In my book, From
Silence to Sound – Richard Kyle’s Journey to Musical Competency,[1]
three students are talking about their work with their teacher:
“I really enjoyed listening to you tonight,” I said to Jobe,
“both your wonderful guitar and your incredible story.”
“Thank you, and I yours as well. Perhaps next time Sara will
share her story too?”
“My story?” she replied, as we began moving to door. “All I
can think to tell you is my relationship with Mr. Kubadi has given me the
permission to do my work.”
“The permission to do your work!” Jobe and I repeated in
unison as we pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped out into the cold
night air.”
An amazing statement when you think about it. You see, as
soon as a student begins to think that they should be somewhere where they’re
not, they lose the ability to be where they are—where they need to be and
sometimes a teacher needs to remind them that they are where they need to be
and that its okay, okay to not worry and to relax into the moment of the work,
hence, the permission to do one’s work.
Of course,
giving oneself permission to do the work is just a starting point. There is
still the question of productive practice, i.e., knowing what to work on
and how to work on it, and the ability to ask and answer the appropriate
questions. Questions are important, they have all the energy, answers kill
questions. But questions need to be appropriate, the better the questions, the
better the thinking, and the better the thinking, the better the practice, and
hence the results. But the ability to ask the right questions at the right time
will be impaired by what I called the baggage one brings to the process.
On all levels and in all spheres, baggage veils the truth.
This baggage
consists of all the various expressions of self-doubt, feelings of unworthiness,
selfishness, even guilt, and all the various shoulds and coulds, etc. that
surface in one’s thoughts and feelings mechanically, like recordings that go on
and on and can’t be stopped.
In fact, these thoughts and feelings can become
so painful and unpleasant as to cause a student to give up the pursuit of his
or her music and the musical sanity that attracted her or him to the
music in the first place. In other words, to, as is said, to throw the baby out
with the bath water. I have observed this with some students. It is sad.
The seat of
all thoughts and feelings is the mind. The mind is vast, powerful beyond
belief, and nearly endless, and for the average person to try to control it
directly is, as Gurdjieff once put it, like trying to jump over one’s own
knees. But the situation is not hopeless.
Over the
years I have learned a couple of things. Thoughts can’t be stopped for very
long, but one can, with intention, create counter-thoughts. For example, if you
tell yourself to not think about blue elephants you will automatically begin to
think about blue elephants, but if you try very hard to think instead about red
elephants, to the degree of your efforts, you will stop thinking about blue
elephants.
The second
thing I have learned is that it is possible to train oneself to not identify
oneself with one’s mind and its projections. I have observed various things
that suggest that I am not my mind and not everything my mind thinks and feels
is necessarily true. It seems that my mind has its own agenda, and that agenda
is all about power and control. Therefore, I can remind myself that I do not
have to act on everything my mind tells me.
In the
chapter on tuning in my book, From Silence to Sound – Richard Kyles’ Journey
to Musical Competency,[2]
Richard, is having a hard time getting his instrument in tune. He admits to his
teacher that his mind is sped up and that he feels slightly sick. His teacher,
Mr. Kubadi, responds in this way:
“I like
your honesty, Richard, real music demands it and the courage to trust; for when
we really look, we will sometimes see things we don’t want to see. Without
trust we will turn away and miss the place where our work begins. When we
underestimate the starting point, we waste time; when we overestimate the
starting point, the work loses traction and goes nowhere. Tell me Richard,
where does your work begin?”
Where does my
work begin? This is a question we need to ask with every practice and within
every practice. If we think, for example, that we are further along in a piece
or an exercise then we are, our work becomes ineffective and unproductive. It
evokes the feeling of a bad dream in which one is running away from something
as hard as one ca and yet, is going nowhere.
Some students
make the mistake of engaging their work at an earlier stage in the process.
They go over things they don’t need to, out of habit and insecurity. It’s like
they’re trapped in the past. As Mr. Kubadi says, this wastes time and energy.
Dig deeper
into these mistakes and one will see the cause can be found in all the shoulds,
coulds, desires, etc. one brings to the work, i.e., in the baggage one
brings to the work. This baggage keeps one from being impartial, and impartiality
is an aspect of musical sanity.
In his book,
God Speaks, Meher Baba states that all that is written by way of an explanation
of God is to appease the convulsions of the mind. In other words, explanations
should not be mistaken for experience—and experience is the goal. Still, a mind
free of convulsions is a great thing. A mind free of convulsions is inherently
sane and with this sanity comes a real inner peace and happiness.
Of course,
this all applies to one’s music. The freer from our baggage our music becomes, the
saner it becomes, and the more joyful, fulfilling, and beautiful becomes its
expression—for ourselves and others.
But musical
sanity is not achieved easily. It’s much like love, maybe it is love? You can’t
demand love, buy love, or intimidate love—not real love. But you can create
conditions in your life that attracts and nourishes it. As in love, so in music
and the pursuit of musical sanity, there are no rules, formulae, set do’s and don’ts.
Nothing is set in stone. Everyone must find their own way—their own path. When
music is thus won through love, it transcends technique, knowledge, and expectations.
I’ve had the
opportunity in my life to attend many classical guitar concerts. I’ve heard
guitar played at the highest level of the domain and I’ve noticed an
interesting thing. After most concerts, as the audience is filing out of the auditorium,
I’ve heard conversations regarding the ability of the performer, the
interpretation, the greatness of the music, etc. But without exception, after
the concerts of the great Andre Segovia, I mainly heard silence and observed
smiles on the faces of the audience.
It’s a very
different thing when mastery of the music is achieved by serving it. Others
feel the difference—feel the silence, which is the source of all sound, the
silence which is the source of lasting peace and lasting happiness, the silence
which is the source of real sanity. Is it worth the effort? Does one have the
choice? Perhaps for some, there is no choice.
“Please tune your instrument, Richard,” he said as he walked
across the room to join me. I tried, but because of my state I was not very
successful and observed myself becoming more and more agitated and confused.
For ten minutes I loosened and tightened strings, but my guitar still sounded
awful. It was useless! Twice I looked to my teacher for help, but he just
shrugged as if he didn’t know either. I was becoming miserable and considered
leaving, but in the depths of my being I knew that there was nowhere for me to
go.”[3]
©copyright Michael Kovitz 2023
[1]
Available through me at, From Silence to Sound142@gmail.com
[2] From
Silence to Sound – Richard Kyles Journey to Musical Competency, is
available through me at, fromsilencetosound142@gmail.com
[3]
Ibid.
