Sitting at the table in our hotel suite in Pismo. It's been kind of a whirlwind. All of these festivals are, I suppose, but this one started with getting up around 3am (3 hours sleep) on Friday and making the long trek to and through airports. I am not as resilient as some, and my tank wasn't quite full to begin with, so by the time we got to our (3 hour) layover at Los Angeles, parts of me were unhappy (upsetting the balance in the rest of me). God is good, and works all things out and through (which is very helpful; albeit difficult to understand when things aren't working out at the moment). I was back on my feet (seat, really, but the former sounds better) for our first (of 2!) sets Friday evening at 7:30 pm. Then 4 sets yesterday, where we had some good ones (you don't hit a home run on every swing). It's now a little after 8am Sunday morning, and time to get ready for 2 more (then a red-eye home through the night tonight). The additional (and best) element here is that I brought my son (Joe, Jr) out with us. He celebrated his 18th birthday out here yesterday. It's been really cool. Among other things, we hung around last night after our last set to hear one of the other bands. This one ("Coronet Chop Suey") has, by consensus, the best drummer on this circuit; John Gillick. Joe, being an aspiring drummer, ate it up, and hung with John and the guys (this band is tight with the Midiri guys). Joe is impressing everyone. I'm a proud papa.

There is certainly a difference. When I sit down to play piano, it is easier to fall outside of myself, and more deeply so. I'm aware now (while writing), of a parallel. When teaching piano (which is seldom these days, but a large part of my past), I reference the "feeling of falling" to introduce the fundamental principle of (rotation) technique. To summarize; It is a natural feeling to push down a piano key. We are using our muscles to effect/control something. In this technique scheme, however, the goal is to abandon muscle-laden pushing in favor of "falling" into the piano key with the weight of your hand and arm. In every case, this requires an adjustment period, where the "need to push" is unlearned and replaced with the ability to let go. At first, it is often difficult because it feels as if we have lost control. As time goes on, it becomes easier to "let go" (if that is our goal). We then can touch upon the broader discovery that letting go is the key to freedom. Learning the "feeling of falling" now allows us to approach the "freedom of falling". Falling into freedom means we are leaving behind all that we cling (are chained) to. This describes what I am increasingly experiencing whenever I play the piano. Way cool.

The music goes on. Certainly the show must. At, perhaps, one of the most (potentially) stressful times I've known (this just happens to be a time where difficult and unrelated events have converged), my "spirituality", both private and public, is tested. "Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors." James 1: 2 The Message. Until recently I have not really thought in terms of "public spirituality", except to hold it in suspicion. I find little Biblical directive for much of what some eagerly put on public display. I must now encounter, however, that I have embraced an understanding of music making that is, in it's essense "praying in public". Hmmm. Just a couple of weeks ago I wrote (for public view here, so, I'm "cornered"): "This idea of "falling out of self-absorption", and stepping outside myself to a spiritual place when performing, has changed everything". Yes it has, and so much for the better. The music goes on.

Back home now. The week away was successful, and profitable. It appears that my future partnership with Jonathan (with whom I served on church staff for 3 years; becoming "soul-mates" in ministry) may be in this renewal/revival weekend partnership. He in his preaching, and I in my music presentation, are approaching from the same angle: seeking to dispense/communicate "revelation" with substance and integrity, willing to "push the envelope", and stretch the participants, and trusting all this to "not return void, but accomplish the purpose...". I do believe that God is revealed in all creation (which would include the music I play) where faith is found. This directs me to take the same (reverential) attitude to any venue I play: from the bar to the stage to the revival. Did I mention "pushing" and "stretching"?