This is it. The beginning of something new. I am tasked with the teaching of music to 27 children ranging in age from 6-10. Not such a huge deal, but a huge deal! I want to pour into them a love a music and beauty and watch the response blossom forth and bear fruit. Like planting seeds. How to make fertile the soil? How to prevent and pull out weeds? How to water? How to step back, let go, and watch. The beauty of music and voices rings in my mind in my ears. The love of the transpiring sublime we aspire to that inspires us. Breathing, in and out. Spiro. To breathe. So basic, so necessary for life. Breath of God. I cannot make it. I cannot force it. It is a butterfly I must let fly and not pin to a card. I must let the joy fly free and not control it. How hard to not control. How hard to let go to set free. And yet it is what we all want and long for. To be set free. And the Truth will set you free. And beauty is truth and truth beauty. Freedom in beauty. Freedom in truth. How did I get the gift to be able to have the ears of these children to try to transfer to them what I know and love in my way. Not a trained way, not the proper way maybe even, but a way which is filled with love, a timid, and scared-to-breathe kind of reverent awe for a subject whose mysteries I have yet to unlock and almost wouldn’t dare. Can I touch the sacred thing? I am not right. I am too base, too low, I will surely break it, crush the fragile life within it. You cannot grab hold of joy and make it happen in someone else. You cannot make someone’s mind be inspired. You can only feed them the nectar of the Gods and watch them to see what it produces and how they become transformed. Let them walk in the Garden, Make their own discoveries and reflect the diamond facet of God they were created to shine through. Let God teach us about Himself through them.
And then there’s Benjamin. A lack of harmony is there. We must back away and not crush the butterfly. We must try to not let him crush it in himself. The Spirit of the Living God must be allowed to do His work in the young soul of the boy unimpeded by our clumsy shadowy vision, our clouded way of seeing. We must step back and watch, and water and encourage.
Dignity in adulthood. We too must grow up. We must transform ourselves outwardly to reflect our gratitude to our Creator and our gratitude to our fellow man for even stooping to share the same airspace with us. So great should our reverence and awe be for one another. So great, so great. And we communicate it to each other thus. To treat one another as little kings and queens, with graciousness and civility of a higher level. Our reverence and gratefulness to our Creator through his createds.
And so, I dress better, and I act reverently toward my fellow man, and I reverence the innocent, and I open up beauty for others to see and hear, and I elevate them, lifting them, transferring them from this plain to the next one. Just a tour guide, just an elevator operator, a bus driver, a fellow sight seer. A fellow pilgrim through the realms of majesty, the domes of splendor. Come children, let us explore!