The composition he created was complete unto itself, not unconscious rambling. To my writer’s heart it would be akin to creating a novel in one sitting of a quality that smacked of an edited, proofread copy ready for printing. It is the sort of art we can create, life we can live, were we willing to leave our minds behind and instead hand ourselves over to our resident power, that which gives us breath at its most basic level and exquisite creation at yet another.
People refer to Jarrett as a genius. I think it’s much more than that. He is, for whatever reason, a human being who knows how to tap the source of life within himself, to dissolve into the moment—as Pama Rab Sel addresses it: “I mean most particularly the intense, specific moment hidden within the apparent motion of mundane activity both within and without.”
There is much talk these days of being present, living in the moment, being mindful. In most cases such talk is merely an idea we employ to assuage a growing emptiness as life goes on without any lessening of the mundane or increase in the extraordinary. So when another human being comes along who’s willing to step off the edge into the heart of the moment in a manner he can share with others, it behooves us to step off with him. As one reviewer, Jesse Kornbluth, states, “He doesn’t pay rapt attention; he is rapt attention. And so are we when we join Jarrett there.
Jarrett was 30 years old at the time of the Köln Concert. He didn’t sleep for two nights before the concert. The piano was a Bosendorfer, not his favorite. He’d had a bad Italian meal. He was, he felt, so unprepared to play that he almost sent the engineers home. But then he went home instead, gave himself over to the expansiveness of the reality that contains us, is us and sat down at the piano to make the Köln Concert history.
We tend to misconstrue the moment as some sort of heightened experience, something grand, out of the ordinary. It just doesn’t happen to be so. Rather it is life experienced when freed from mind and its constant prattle.
In the words of Pama Rab Sel: “ Whatever has been is gone. Whatever will be does not yet exist. In this space we reside. Don’t give it another thought. Expand this space. Sustain this moment….Remain steady in the Stillness.”
Beautiful Christina! Meant both ways.ReplyDelete
Always grateful for your stopping by and commenting, Beca.Delete
I find this timely for me now, as I seem to be resting in the space between the notes!!! I love that idea. you have given here..and even those rests or spaces are filled with music ,and expectation!!! Thank you, Christina! Love , MerriReplyDelete
That's a good place to be, Merri, surrounded by music of the soul.Delete
And to read this at a time when a head cold has taken over my body and my mind is fighting to be anywhere but in the present -- wonderful. Having felt this mind-body dis-ease for the past few days now, I will say that it is much easier to not be caught in the past or worrying about the future. I do like it better in the present and plan to go back soon. :)ReplyDelete
Oh Laura, how wonderful to hear from you. In fact, there is an aspect to the moment where your head cold doesn't exist. That's the "expanding this space" part. Scrunch over a little, maybe it's there. :) I will write soon. I was ecstatic to hear about your agent.Delete
Thank you, Christina! :) xoDelete