Haunting Sounds

Hello Possums. As I write I am listening to a recently acquired CD produced by a long term acquaintance. The CD is called ‘Cloudhands’ by Bruce Rogers. He did engineering with one of my best friends and, through this connection, I have known Bruce for over twenty years. He makes digeridoos, has a successful business and reputation for his craftmanship and artistry world wide. But two weeks ago was the first time I heard him play. 

When you listen to the digeridoo every fibre of your body resonates with the sound. You become transported out of yourself. You imagine damp earth, clean air. You could be a patch of soil, a piece of bark, a bird. Your soul becomes reduced and expanded at once. Reduced in your own significance. Expanded, connected. 

Beautiful V from India, tall and exotic, said after we listened to Bruce’s digeridoo concert “I thought I would have to go back to India to experience spirituality. But I have found it in Australia”. She and her son went with the digeridoo players the following day to protest China in Tibet. The plan was to gather didge players and blow together in protest, using the didge as a horn. Her son played. She was very proud. 

My father came over this moring to take Sally for a bike ride. He has a long standing arrangement with my girls (his grandchildren). Every Saturday he takes at least one of them out on their push bikes. It was his idea. This is how he stays connected with his grand daughters. He shares his love of cycling with them. They talk along the way. 

He reports family news, the latest being: my brother is suffering from stress-related health problems. Situations at work and with is ex take their toll on this easy-going man who wants to avoid confrontation and tries to please everyone. He surfs. He has a great sense of humour. He lives in a tranquil location. He has an adoring wife. Its not enough. 

The didge concert was part of a series. Its African Drums next month. One of the new people I have met recently asked me if I’d heard African Drums played before. I told him that I own a djembe and have practiced on it with a teach yourself CD. He laughed. “You are open to the world”, he said. “What do you mean?”. He explained that, like him, I appear to stay open to learning from what the world has to offer. I took him to mean ‘other cultures’ by ‘the world’, but on second thoughts he could have also been referring to technlology. I do tend to dabble in things. I hold learning in high importantance. I don’t believe modern society has answered the question of how to live well.