I won't take the time to write about the metaphor of lyrics and how I apply to my situation and personal relationship with Jesus Christ, but I love this version due to the innocent and sweet collaboration of musicians. Neither one has envy of the other, do not detract nor dispute one another's rightful place as musicians. They are obviously supportive and thoroughly enjoying the creative process which is downright holy, in making music together!
May it be so for all persons in any vocations, avocations, and careers! Especially may it be so for all consecrated Catholic hermits, for any one at all in the consecrated life of the Church. In fact, may it be collaboratively loving for any and all parishioners in parishes, or for that matter for all in any church whether or not of the various rites in the Catholic Church--East or West--or other Christian and other-faith groups who love God.
Eric Clapton is deemed one of the greatest guitarists of all, up there within the top five or so (but who can truly determine to classify such giftedness?). Brian Wilson is deemed a musical genius in composition and vocal harmony. Each man is now in early 70's; each rose up through childhood emotional trials within their family units. Thus, it is well to note the influence of suffering--but not the type that overcomes totally, the sufferer. Creativity tends to salve suffering.
Consider collaborative, supportive harmony in all our endeavors. Eliminate envies or discrediting thought and commentary. Open the clearing balm of creativity in our everyday contributions whether in the silence of solitude or amidst busy interactions in the active world.
The following song, composed by Brian Wilson (Beach Boys) amazingly soothes when my body is cold but more importantly encapsulates a metaphor. The lyrics represent in metaphoric comparison the evolved relationship of the temporal Catholic Church world with this consecrated Catholic hermit. I so appreciate not only the lyrics but their rich symbolism, especially of the sun (and Son: Christ Jesus, Son of Man, Son of God). The "love of my life" is represented in the Catholic parish, the temporal Church world, or as a priest referred a couple of years ago, as the "secular Church" as compared to the mystical Church, the mystical Body of Christ, the spiritual Church. I have the warmth of the sun [Son] within me tonight.... The warmth of the Son is with us always, even when the temporal aspects of the Church do not necessarily feel the same way toward our love of the temporal aspects of Church. (One can gather the depth of meaning and experience the truth, beauty, and goodness in our souls' evolving in the growth that comes from our lives progressing in His Real Presence, no matter what befalls us.) In faith, we continue on trusting in the Most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Enjoy and absorb...the warmth of the Son. He is with you tonight, the true and eternal Love of our lives!
Woke up shortly after midnight last, hearing a strange sound in the hermitage. Finally figured it was not coming from inside but perhaps under the old farmhouse, in cellar. Flashlight and coat over pajamas, and down into the tiny opening to cellar. I found a geyser shooting up four feet from the sump pump basin. Pulled the plug and amazingly not electrocuted as the earthen cellar floor has been soaked for a month or more since it flooded when previous sump pump broke. I plugged it back in, and it started to pump again. By morning when I checked, the pump then would not stop, which it is supposed to when water is not high. Was running the motor non-stop. Opened up the back-up sump pump and installed it. Brought in an extension cord to hook up small fan to at least try to circulate what air a tiny fan will. The cellar reeks of too much moisture in closed off area. Otherwise, I spent the day on the mattress, at first in state of unrest. It was not just the sump pump issues but having hired a Godly young man to help, and one day he brought a younger brother and friend. My three adult children are graciously chipping in to pay since my finances are stretched and a point of concern. But the help and I did not accomplish all that much for how much it cost after three days. Much guilt on that, but today I pondered the situation. With spiritual pain high and coming out of great spiritual darkness, and the weight of so much manual work yet to do here, and the lifestyle hardship of such ascetic existence--at least for my body and age--today I considered why the unrest. Am weary with pain, and have not had the best of sleep at nights--even though last night was actually better than some despite the cellar crisis. I was able to return to sleep after awhile. But I am not used to people here, young people, and especially the day there were three. My pain was high, and it was difficult for me to think on how to frame in for a pocket door which involved a slanted ceiling for part of the task and also jutting the top plate in another section of ceiling. Yes, I had to think it through while doing it, and the main young man hired wanted to keep busy, and we had to re-do several times. None of it his doing wrong. Well, that was the second day, after all. I am so in pain right now I can't think what we did the first day--started the framing of the first part of the wall, yes. The second day the younger boys carried in drywall and up the ladder; not easy but took quite awhile. I asked them to cut some pieces, and I did not realize that it all takes instruction, even though I tried to describe. I do better seeing it done, myself, so I needed to stop my addled wall framing brain to demonstrate. Makes sense to do so. Well, by the third day just the one young man helping, and although we worked all but lunch break, we did not get much done again, Tightened some sink pop-up valves installed requiring an extra set of hands, then put together the kitchen faucet that the cabinet installer's helper had, previously, totally reduced to pieces and parts (did not know he could remove plumbing less drastically, evidently). So we got that installed, only for me to discover that the turn on handle is sticking to the side. Will have to wait for someone to come along to hold it if I can loosen underneath to swing the handle in proper position. Does not matter. I need to refigure out how to do the p-traps. Plus, under the house we discovered, thanks to the young man there helping, that I had neglected to hook up one cold water line! Need parts to finish that task. So we tried to finish the third day by hanging some drywall, but somehow that did not go so well, either. I made errors in cutting an outlet box, and I discovered that the day before another piece of drywall was damaged in the carrying in, so will have to alter my plan for it. So today I felt terribly guilty about all the cost for very little accomplished. And I do need help now and then but the costs added up horrifically and thought we could do more. Much is due to the many glitches that occur when I have never done some of the tasks, ever. I also discovered that a man I'd hired awhile back had not installed my downstairs pocket door correctly, but maybe it can be remedied without my having to take out drywall.... So that was spent money, also, and involves more work on my part to fix it. Seems not to matter always if the person is skilled or not. The young man who came and brought younger brother and friend for one of the three days, is a marvelous young man! Godly young man! So it has nothing to do with any of that. I just am not used to much activity with others, for one thing; and it is hard to teach that which I am figuring out and learning, myself. Plus, I am so used to solitude! Amazing how solitude affects in unexpected ways! I think an issue today is due to more pain, so I sought to find the center of my soul again. Perhaps it also has to do with the juncture of the outer world with that of a mystic and hermit, and how difficult it is to have others enter in. Having the quiet of one person went better, but still, it took quite awhile to accomplish much. Plumbing is not a rush task, and then we had the glitches, anyway. Always have glitches here; obstacles abound even with the place blessed now. I'm cold, as well. Was told the costly heat pump would easily heat the entire downstairs. It warms the upstairs even with insulation between floors.... And I have a space heater in this tiny cell of a room and still have to wear a hat to keep the head warm. But what mostly I've come to, today, trying to keep the pain under control as much as possible while resting totally, is that I must stay mostly in my element of the spiritual; and that I function in quietude yet do need assistance for some tasks. It is a difficult dilemma when rather ill with physical pain, on top of other aspects. But a very positive aspect was just how wonderful it was--even fun--to have the young men here, talking, joking, wanting to work hard and my not having the energy, I suppose, or wherewithal to keep them always busy or instructing them on efforts. Was tired especially by second day! Yet, it was a true uplift to have the help and the human company after a long time of solitude and increased physical pain, and probably the darkest night of soul ever...yet. So after the guilt of thoughts of not enough accomplishment and feeling terrible that others were paying so much for my lack, I turned to the Lord; and I thought of this piece of beautiful music by once more, Brian Wilson, founder of the Beach Boys. I listen to this song which is mystical to me--the tones, the chords, the instrumentation. And the lyrics speak to me of only Jesus, of His talking to me, drawing me close, having me feel His heart beat, and telling me to "Listen, Listen, Listen." Tomorrow is another day. Am thankful for the night. I need to get on coat and shoes and with flashlight head to the cellar to check the new sump pump and shut the door to keep rats out. Will take quite an effort of body and mind to do it in the cold and chill. But I shall. Listen. Listen. Listen.
This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit has come upon yet another Brian Wilson composition, this time performed when he was 60 years old or so. (There is another rendition I might post that is performed when age 73.) I love to take the everyday life-love lyrics and with an act of grace, turn them into love songs from me to Jesus, my life's Love and Soul-weaver.
I hope you can catch the lyrics, for all words may be woven into a gratitude prayer: No matter what we do to break away or whenever we fail ourselves, Jesus always believes in us. He always is with us. Even when we think we are alone, He is with us. We may try to push Him away, but He always comes back; He is never far off.
The music and harmonies are heavenly, don't you think? I love the reality that Brian Wilson truly enjoys and enters into the song not only as performer, but from his own smiles we see that he becomes a receptor of the song. He is the thread, the yarn, the woof and warp of the musical fabric. His soul is woven by and into God's Artistry.
(I also love the collaborative effect of many souls joining together to be part of the creation. This is a marvelous truth even for a hermit whose existence and interactions, mostly in the silence of solitude, collaborate with Jesus the Soul-Weaver. We affect one another in the unending production of good in the tapestry of love and life.)
So our souls are woven by Jesus! Consider this reality; perceive it in daily life details!
We are never too old. We also are never too young. We can sing (or hum within) a song to Jesus, the loving Weaver of our souls.
Even writing about the conversation and flow of temporal incidents such as that of what people ingest, or insistent belief systems, or non-researched opinions of temporal aspects: wearies this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit. The deeper conversion comes at a time much-needed. Considering the artistry of being a hermit-soul seeking God, I found linkage with the patterns of other artists and what they found that pivoted them to deeper, richer expressions and offerings from their souls and their God-given gifts to God and others. One similar strand that seems to run through artists' lives (and by artists I consider those in functional art, practical art, home arts, fine art, literary art, political art, spiritual art, etc.) is that at some point or other, they each have a turning point or several, but usually a major one that involves: focus. I listened to and observed a video interview with, again, Brian Wilson, the musical genius and composer and founder of The Beach Boys. Within three years at the beginning of what would be a long, musical career spanning over fifty years, Wilson had a pivotal moment. He realized he was weary of the surf- and car-themed compositions with a signature rock-n-roll beat or "shuffle." He felt called and moved--inspired and desirous--to create more artistic, explorative, musical compositions. He ceased touring with the group and focused on composing. Within two years, he had composed what is now known as the greatest recorded album collection of such music of the century, topping the Beatles' response album. But the public did not purchase the album in the amounts they had the hit singles, and their recording company did not praise the album, "Pet Sounds", even though critics acclaimed the music as sheer genius. Wilson went on to begin another album, "Smile." But he did not complete that project until 2004. He became discouraged by negative feedback from within the band as well as from Capitol Record Company. And drugs took a toll on his physical, emotional, and mental health. Even so, he endured the suffering and traversed the long road out of his period of seclusion and trials. The ordeal brought forth more music. Besides completing the "lost" album, "Smile"--acclaimed by music critics and public alike, and with "Pet Sounds" being declared the greatest album--Wilson focused on his musical compositions. He produced more albums, more hit songs, and continues to perform with others and solo. But he and most if not all artists go through a major turning point (often among various lesser turning points) in their artistic, creative, productive lives. In the realm of "spiritual artists," such as Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, of Padre Pio and any other saints that I can think of, there is such a turning point, as well. The common thread among those seeking the artistry of life, the artistry of soul seeking God (which is what it all boils down to in substance and essence whether or not the various artists recognize their search for purpose in God) involves a more intense focus with a shift in soul and life circumstance. There is a change that alters the artist's usual routine and effects change. This change can sometimes bring more solitude which ensures greater effort toward producing from within, utilizing their gifts, bringing what God evokes from them to fruition and for the betterment of those who desire what it is they have to bring to the world in one form or another. The artist of whatever vocational path and passion, shifts from the distractions and pursues focus on his art form. The hermit as artist, for example, removes to his cell and specializes in the soul seeking God artistry, bringing to fruition whatever "art" the Lord reveals and produces from the soul He created for a specific purpose. The artistry of the soul seeking God necessarily goes through such a major shift at some point along the spiritual journey, and often with several minor shifts before and sometimes after. We never cease to evolve if we are passing through the narrow gate. God bless His Real Presence in us!
I've continued my prayer and pondering of the shift and shake of my own soul and eremitic vocation (as vehicle therein). Somehow it helps me to go with God's flow, and music flows. I came upon the video of two great musical artists who obviously followed their God-given callings, their vocations, of musical genius.
What strikes me about Brian Wilson (Beach Boys composer, musician, founder) and Eric Clapton (one of the world's greatest guitarists) is that in their twilight years, much is documented of their earlier years. Each man had childhood traumas through which their vocations evolved.
Perhaps the crises forced their passion, focused their talents, fortified their vocations and brought them to fruitful grandeur. As a result of such fruitfulness, they gave and continue to give the listening world much to not only enjoy but to inspire musically as well as in their overcoming their earlier traumas.
They turned what could have been tragic lives into victorious lives. But it did not come easily. We must not forget the hours of solitude and inner silence so as to "listen" to their hearts and souls find musical expression. They practiced their art forms; they lived their vocations with passion--excluding other aspects of life, for a vocation requires human effort as well as God's grace.
I continue to ponder what it all means to me, personally. I am in a transition point in my own eremitic vocation and spiritual growth.
Tomorrow will be the 21st anniversary of my confirmation as a Catholic. Much has evolved since that evening those years ago, yet I remember it vividly. I was already in middle age; and relatively speaking, it was not that long after (less than five years) that the Lord proffered to me His vocational call to the eremitic (hermit) life.
We all go through shifts and shakings in our spiritual progression (and truly, in about any progression involved in our lives). I note that each musician--Brian Wilson and Eric Clapton--had such transitions in their lives--notably major adult obstacles to overcome which for them were externally introduced and taken in by each of drugs and alcohol. But these obstacle-temptations were answered from a point of desiring to transcend when they had come to a vocational plateau of sorts.
For now, as a consecrated Catholic hermit, my soul-vocational shift and shake is being worked out within as well as without. I am seeing some aspects that require more focus and other aspects that require shifting away from ways of being and thinking and doing. Some of it simply involves reflecting upon passion--my passion for God and the calling as a hermit as artist and the artistry of a soul-seeking-God (and soul, seeking God).
In the meantime enjoy and be inspired by this collaborative presentation of Brian Wilson's genius composition and performance of "The Warmth of the Sun" accompanied by Eric Clapton's gifted guitar and voice. (Note: the men were about 60 years of age in this performance.)
