Reflecting recently on how my life of music brings me into situations and in contact with people I would not have experienced otherwise I believe. Musicians, more than many other professions, learn to go with the flow. It’s part faith, part dumb luck and a state that exists between terror and like letting go of any ridiculous notion we make anything happen. Touring you don’t have a single idea as to what will turn out when you show up to a gig. I’ve played to two. I’ve played to 15,000. I’ve shown up and the guy who booked me quit a few weeks ago and didn’t let anyone know I was coming. Seriously, that was in Austin, TX.
My spiritual practice allows me to expect the best from everyone and every situation. But, I don’t always have the strength or enough belief in myself that anyone will show up or even wants to hear my music. This isn’t exclusive to me of course. Even the big artists feel the pressure, and they’ve got many others relying on their success. Hangers on, crew, promoters, band, musicians, publicists etc. all feed off symbiotically of the musician who had better stay healthy, sober, focused. When it’s just you doing all the above, well except the hanger on part, you have the added pressure but only yourself to answer to. It’s like a chef running FOH, management, reservations to dishwasher.
So recently I’ve had powerful resonant reminders, or call them mystical synchronicity. I had the enormous privilege and honor to perform at the prestigious Heard museum in Phoenix’s Art District. I was there performing for their First Friday Locovore festival. A perfect mix seeing how I’m such and foodie and all. I’m also Native American and that aspect comes through my music and performance loud and clear.
Two nights before that gig I had a dream. It was a dream in a series I’ve been experiencing recently. In this dream I was in a big lodge/home I’ve dreamed before. There were many relations I only knew intuitively. They were all sitting in a big round room, like an aboveground Kiva maybe. They were drumming or singing or chanting in their own languages. Some men brought the body of a young Indian man to the door and said he had died overseas, maybe like Afghanistan. You know how dreams are. They said they brought him back to do ceremony. I helped them inside and we began to play, dance, smudge, sing, etc.
There was a lot of activity and it involved peyote, marijuana and trance. They were all telling me something that I didn’t understand. Showing me images I had no context for. That is, until the Heard Museum. I showed up to my gig early so I could find it and with hopes of touring the current displays. Glad I followed my intuition on that.
Playing at Southwest Regional Flute Festival Tucson, AZ April 2, 2016
Flute by Living Tree Designs--Ed Dougherty
As I walked through it was as if I could hear every story at once. Each piece, clothing, instrument, pot, Katsinas, jewelry all were talking to me and I felt such strong emotion. Mostly, wistful and sadness as I walked through giving silent acknowledgments. I think my dreams were premonitions and the ancestors came through with anticipation that I was going there. Often people will tell me they see my ancestors with me when I perform and they are open to seeing it.
As I performed that night for three hours and made sure I honored them each deeply as my music drifted through the courtyard and museum. I was so appreciative of that experience because it told me that what I do is beyond just me. It connects. It bridges. It heals. I have always said my ancestors meet in my heart and that’s where the music is made. I write this sitting on a deck in the Gila Wilderness. I’m staying as a guest of the Black Range Lodge in Kingston, NM. It is beautiful, stunning and just far more than I’d ever do for myself considering I usually sleep in my tent or super-budget hotel. I’m doing a concert in Hillsboro tomorrow so this is a very convenient and wonderful opportunity. I feel so appreciative and grateful because I get to live a life where gifts, such as these, find their way to me so often. I meet the most amazing people, hear great stories, exchange ideas and do a lot of listening as I travel this nation as a musician. People are so so very generous and give of their time, home, hand-made instruments, pickles, gifts. The people who brought me to the Heard thanked me for being so nice and easy to work with.
Reminders that what I’m living is what I’m giving and projecting out come at me like the scents of the desert in bloom this spring or the beautiful sight of thunderheads in the distance. In life, we can only say thank you. Thomas Merton famously said, “If the only prayer your ever say is ‘thank you,’ that would be enough.’ A’ho