When Time Goes Away

What is life without a consciousness towards time? Can there be life without time?

I was introduced to the concept of time at the age of five, when I was instructed not to get out of bed and wake my parents up until 6:00 am. My mother carefully traced a six on a large piece of paper, as it would appear on my digital clock, and told me to wait until that image appeared on my clock before getting up. I spent long mornings waiting eagerly for the stubborn digital five to melt away into six so that the day could begin.

Those mornings were the start of a life inextricably wrapped up in time. Activities begin, then end. If we are lucky, we may get lost in the present moment of the activity and lose sense of time for a brief moment, but are quickly drawn back. Time puts safe boundaries around everything. It promises an end, and then the beginning of something new. Time gives a boundary that brings a welcome relief even to the most pleasant of activities. I love tennis, but I want to know that a tennis date can end after an hour and a half. Socializing with friends is divine, but that too must have its bounds.

When I first began playing my fiddle, time went away. A weight that has rested upon my shoulders since my earliest memories has suddenly been lifted. Seconds melt into hours, which melt into days. I drift off to sleep hearing fiddle tunes and wake up imagining my gentle hold on the bow as it dances across the strings. There is no start or end or anything else in the world. I play until I am late for commitments, until I forget what day it is, until neither of those things matters.

Surely there is something in this world that lifts away TIME for everybody, connecting us to ourselves, the divine, and the present moment so intensely that we experience life anew. I have found my time lifter. It does not matter that I am a beginner and that half the time I play out of tune, for in timelessness, I have found something that amounts to pure gold, regardless of skill level or ability to perform.

May everyone find his or her lifter of time and embrace this gift.

The Quickest Way to Point B

I once heard that the most efficient way to get from point A to point B in the spiritual world is hardly ever a straight line. It seems that the path to all good things takes its inexplicable turns and meanders through territory that one may consider useless. And in retrospect, we realize that this may have been the only path that could have led us to the promised land that we did not even realize was awaiting us. And so began my journey with the fiddle on the eve of my 27th birthday.

In fact, my journey started with a mandolin. After completing my graduate coursework last summer, I decided that I must continue to be a student in some regard; to allow myself to look foolish being a complete beginner, while taking joy in each baby step towards competency. In fact, there are few delights in this world that bring more inspiring energy than that of being a beginner. Thus, after consulting a few friends and honing in a variety of You Tube instrumental clips, I found my way onto Craigslist, where I purchased a used mandolin.

Over the following year, this little eight-stringed instrument changed my life, introducing me to Old Time and Irish fiddle tunes, Bluegrass and Old Time jams, music camps, workshops, festivals, and many new music friends. I discovered that anytime I left the house with the mandolin, a new music friend would appear at my side, as if by magic, always with a new song to teach, a word of encouragement, or chords to back up the tune I was plucking.

At Old Time jams and Irish sessions, I began to find myself focusing with awe on the fiddlers, envious of the beautiful singing quality of their tone. My new mandolin friends told me to specialize. Pick one style, learn all the tricks, and get to be good at it. Yet, this didn't make sense. Music is for me! I will never become a virtuoso--this is my personal delight, so why not follow my own joy? So, I returned to classifieds of Craigslist, where the world seems to have no limit. The next day, I handed over $220 in crumpled cash in exchange for a Czech-made student violin, which I named Firebird on the drive home. I have had Firebird for a month now, and she has hardly left my hands. My meandering entry into old time music has brought me to my destination: The fiddle

This blog is about my journey with traditional fiddle music. It is about being a beginner, plunging into a new world, and savoring the delights that splash up upon impact.

Please feel free to leave comments and share morsels from your own musical journey!