The Voice

 

Dear blog,

 

What to say?

I’ve wanted to say so many things. There’s been so many beautiful things. Rainbows, uncanny walls of them, tablecloths of them. Events that seem so very curious, I’m not sure how to describe them.

That I wonder what to write, and how? So much so that I search for words.

And yet….

I guess sharing a little, and perhaps just writing the marrow, instead of getting bogged in details, is what I will do, for now, because it is the essence that is beautiful.

The aroma of truth that is beautiful.

 I’ve thought about sharing the video of our spring Program.

Then I talk myself out of it, because I know it’s just a form. And going back feels almost like collecting butterfly wings.

When the nows are right here to be found.

I’ve always felt uncomfortable watching myself in videos.

Plus, this video does not show you the bits that made up this choir. The ups, and downs. The mini dramas, and politics, and also the beautiful heart energy that came in at times.

Moments of encouragement, and also seeing moments.

The very humanness of this choir, in a small town.  And the whole program was made up of mini moments, of women.

A collaborative work. Where something bubbled through the cracks, not because of force, or pushing.

But because a soft energy seeped in, and sculpted things, little by little. A very allowing energy. And it seemed that all of us women seemed for a moment, softer.

Little changes.

Soft changes.

Like us women wearing dresses, probably the first time since I’ve been in blue notes, and it’s been a while.

Being able to write words, that were able to be read.

Words that were allowed.

That was beautiful.

Encouraging.

A group of women.

Sometimes so in the space of love, it was beautiful.

And sometime, so in the space of needing love, that it was challenging.

And a Choir director, leading, though with great arthritis in her hips, and an ill husband.

And so, if you decide to listen to this, take into account, that behind what manifests, perfect, or imperfect, loud or soft, on key, or off---in-between all form lies the thread.

The voice---The unheard bits you cannot see, or taste, or touch. Many moments of surrender.

Moments of unfolding, when one could run, or be small.

Moments of expansion for all of us, in our own ways.

Moments experienced on the inside of it all. One soul’s lens at a time. One person’s experience at time.

A point of light. A sound.

 So whether you're singing in the choir, or in the audience, or watching a video, or listening to the sound of your own heart, or sitting in the stillness of your own sacred center, sometimes, in golden moments, you get a glimpse of the sparkling truth, a ray that finds its way to the surface, and is sometimes seen, and even if was just for a moment.

Seen.

Or not.

It is there.

Always.

This third thing, waiting to be invited.

It can be here, with you.

Now.

As you sing together with the voice. 

Below is something I wrote after the program, because it was something I wanted to say there... 

So I'm saying it here. Though, I've rewritten it some since then.

And below that, is the script for the Voice, so you know what was said because sometimes it's hard to tell what was said from the video.

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I forgot to include the voice of our teachers in or original script.

And Shirley has been my teacher.

And I would like to say ONEGAI SHIMASU, thank you to her.

And to her mother, and her teacher.

And to her mother. 

And to my mother.

To all mothers, and teachers, and choir directors, of all kinds, to fathers, and songs, daughters, and brothers.

My Teachers.

To you, and to all the those in the audience, and the choir members behind me.

And my beautiful soul sister, Bessie, who has sung with me in all kinds of weather.

Thank you.

You have all been my teachers, and coaches.

Seen, or unseen. Thank you for being there for me.

Supporting me. Loving me.

Teaching me. 

Thank you.

We have all taught one another something, all touched each others lives in some way. All been each other coaches and helpers along this beautiful journey of life. We have all covered each other and helped each other, in some way.

We have all helped each other to see the truth, about life, and each other in some way.

All helped each other to grow.

I would like you to note, that the beautiful thing Shirley just did for us only a little while ago, in playing the star spangled banner, as we all stood up, and looked at the flag, behind her.

With our hands covering our hearts.

“Oh say, can you see?”

By the dawns early light.

Did you see?

A person who’s mother, and people were incarcerated for not being American enough.

Has stood before you, and said, with her beautiful heart, and harp, and fingers.

Do you not see?

My hand over this harp with 13 original strings.

America started out with 13 original colonies.

I wonder if anyone listening felt a bit of awe, and wonder, and then listening felt a twinge of guilt, or shame?

And how beautiful this all is.

If we looked.

We, our hearts all are the same.

Listen.

Hear the music.

One anthem.

One harp.

One heart.

And so, my heart says. Yes. Stand. And cover your harp, your heart. Strum the strings.

Play the hearts national anthem. Learn from your teachers---they are all around you. Teaching you, how to cover your hearts.

Stand before the flag of unity.

Cover love.  And love the cover.

Love.

That is the only thing worth covering.

And you are all that. 

Long may our hearts wave.

 Stand in respect to those who show you your hearts, harps song.

See those who are are willing to play your heart's national anthem despite all that has happened.

Forgive those who held you unjustly.

Love them.

Yes.

I am grateful for teachers that teach us how to be.

And to give love always.

See how beautiful it is to hold up Truth, and love, and unity as their flag.

Long may it wave.

 

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This is the text for the Voice. Bess gave me some good ideas, and word thoughts. So this is a collaboration. I let the choir director rearrange it from the original text a bit. So I've tried to piece together what it changed to. So if it's off from the video, that's probably why.

The Voice 2024 spring Concert

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1. The Voice.

2. Lineage.

 

Narrator.

The Voice

If you listen, you can hear it.

It is here, with us, always.

The thread of music, the word, that was at the very beginning.

The line of poetry that comes on the radio at the exact right moment, when you need it.

The voice of hope that sings out even in the darkest moments. The voice that whispers truth. The voice of our grandmothers.

The voice of our history, the voice of our hearts, the voice of our friends, and those we lean on in times of sorrow, or joy.

 Listen, and you will hear it !

 

3. They call The wind Mariah.

4. Special number (Lean on me) Loreen Olivia, Sue, Karen, Sheryl, Esther)

 

 Narrator.

The voice of quiet courage, and joy, even when circumstances look grim. It speaks of our homeland, of heroes, of flags, and of courage, the fabric of truth that sewed our nation together. The voice, it tells of beautiful mornings, and meadows we once knew and sometimes remember. It sings to us, and tells us that us that happiness is here, now.

5. The Star Spangled Banner---Koto instrumental. (Shirley Kazuyo Muramoto)

6. Oklahoma.

 

Narrator.

The voice calls still.

Invisible to some.

But heard when we pause, and spend time with real things.

The voice of nature, and of rain, and sun, and of wind. The voice found in the stars, as you stand alone under the sky's umbrella. You can hear it in the seasons, in the sound of silence of winter. Its truth echoes out, calling us to let the sunshine in, even in darkness, when there is no sound. Its voice calls to us all in all ages, and in all stages.

7. Aquarius--let the sunshine in

8. Sound of Silence (special number)

9. Singin' in the rain.

 

 

Narrator

The voice.

Can you hear it? Heard in the jungle's of our own lives. It is the voice of peace. It is the voice of your mother, the strength of your father. It is found in the sound of a harp, the wings of a butterfly, the bells of a wind chime. It lights up your senses.

10. Annie's Song (Lynnette, and Doug Jenkins)

11. Koto number---Kokeshi Ningyo – Shirley Kazuyo Muramoto, Brian Wong Muramoto, and Stephanie Skeem.

Narrator.

The voice is heard beyond the gossip of loud tongues. It tells of beautiful mornings, and meadows, we once knew, and sometimes remember. It beckons us to join in choir, no matter how we sound. To have courage to sing.

12. All God's creatures got a place in the choir.

13. The lions sleeps tonight.

14. Don't worry, be happy (Special number)

15. Gossip Gossip.

Narrator.

The voice.

The breath.

A word. A space. The Yah-weh--the in-breath, and out-breath. The sound of life.

The sound of unity that ties us all together as we sing for you. The sacred space where my soul can speak to yours. The fire behind all creation. It is the presence of the beloved.

16. Pie Jesu. Bessie And Stephanie

 

Narrator.

The voices of those who once sang with us in Blue Notes, but are now singing with us in spirit. Memories of the past.

We sing these songs, that, as you listen, you will hear that voice.

The presence lingering even after the stage is empty, and everyone has gone home.

The call, pulling your heart ever closer to your soul.

The invisible note.

The sound of you.

The beat of your own heart telling you what path to choose.

The voice that leads us all home, back to our hearts, to our original homeland. To that original sound.

For without this voice, we are all groping in the dark.

Searching.

 

18. Blue notes of Harmony.

19. Memories.---Bellanova

 

Narrator.

But if we are still, we can hear the sound of silence, and of sound, and of our hearts and spirits, leading us note by note, to a place where all voices will one day sing together in unity.

Thank you for taking time out of your day, to come and listen to our voices. We invite you, with heartfelt appreciation, to join your voices with ours in singing Edelweiss when Julia turns to cue you.

May we all bloom and grow.

Together!

 

15. Edelweiss.

 

 

Topaz and cotton wood fluff

 

The best part about mother's day.

My sister pointed out the floating clouds of cotton that were just floating off the cottonwood trees.

I got on my bike to where she directed, and it was magic.

So beautiful.

 

My sister came and found me, and after we had appreciated the magic of it, we went and got our mom, in her wheelchair, and were able to share it with her too.

While I was manning mom's wheelchair, Bess jumped into the canal, howling out in cold.

My mom was real tired, and not feeling well, so I took her home, and then I went to the back of our field, and jumped to the canal.

That was so refreshing. I felt very much a wake up of my soul.

And today, I jumped in, around 5:00 P.M.

It was cold.

Super cold.

The clouds were beautiful.

The green everywhere is so alive. So heavily.

And the water was invigorating.

It felt so good.

So renewing.

Baptizing to all the tired bits of my body, mind and soul.

I feel there is a newness created when one plunges into the icy water, a washing of old things away. Though it takes a bit of courage, as changing states is hard to do sometimes.

I feel it making me feel more me.

And I feel like the cold plunge will give me courage, and clarity to plunge back into writing. For I've felt so heavy, and tired, and at a standstill, unable to post anything. After our Blue notes program, and the program at the old folks center, and so much energy being poured out to friends and family, I've just been so tired.

A energy that has been quite weighty one.

A pause.

Yet...

Here I am.

And here you are.

Splash.

I want to write about everything all at once...but maybe I'll try and write in increments, so I'm not overwhelming myself.  And find the best bits, and write those.

I feel at the cusp of something beautiful. There is light, and green, and beautiful energy flowing all around us, waiting for us to welcome it in.

And with this beautiful sunlight energy, I feel it clearing that which needs clearing, and cleans that which needs cleaning, and renews, that which needs renewing.

 An soul aurora, the colors lighting up our sky.

So much energy pouring in.

So much to see.

Prior to My koto teacher coming down, Bess and I were handling a lot of different music things for our Blue notes concert.

I had a moment of nearly not being able to do what I'd been practicing for months, and then...panic attack, and yet...

Thankfully.

There are angels. Stopping me from stopping myself.

Phew.

Shirley believed in me, and that gave me courage to keep playing koto.

 And so, after many preparations getting ready for our guests.

Shirley, Bob, and Brian arrived.

Something I really appreciated about them, is that they felt like family. Someone I knew. With a royal energy. Crown energy. Very service oriented. Very giving, and kind.

Shirley is like a music missionary, as she is always traveling around, with her kotos, to schools, and teaching everywhere she goes. It is quite beautiful, actually. A giving energy that I would like to emulate.  

And our little living room was very living, because three kotos got set up in there, and after exchanging gifts, and hellos, we played together for the very first time, in the two years I've been taking lessons.

 

I was afraid. I'd been practicing, but playing with two other people was something I was unsure of.

 

Shirley's husband, Bob, sat there, smiling. And I felt really seen by him, he was shy, and kind, like a very beautiful father figure. Very encouraging.

 

After we set up our kotos, Shirley said she would play the top part with me, and her son, Brian would play the bottom part.

 

She asked me to start playing first, and then they both joined in.

And when we started, though I had to really focus, to keep up with their nimble fingers.

I felt a surge of energy, and though my playing was far from perfect. Shirley, like a good teacher, covered for my mistakes, and I felt much more at ease. And a sense of trust.

 

Because we were to perform that day, we had to keep going. So we started singing the sound of silence.

 

We invited Brian to sing, and he brought come beautiful clackers to go along with it, while Shirley played. And bob watched.

This was so beautiful, because the sound, the words, we all felt it.

 

This was a beautiful thing.

Then Shirley played amazing grace, and Bessie played on her violin, I, on my flute.

Then we sang a verse, then we played our instruments along with Shirley, and then we sang another verse.

 

That was also beautiful

 

Then Shirley, and Brian, played their kotos, and Bessie played together on her violin. (the orange blossom special) While I ran clackers, and train whistles. I invited bob to try blowing on the train whistle. He gave it a good try, and I felt he was a very good sport.

 

The rest of the time. We had to hurry. So we fed them all some food, though Shirley only snatched a bite. She wanted to dress us authentically in kimonos that my Journalism teacher had given to us a year a go---from her trip to Japan.  So we turned our living room, into a dressing room, because it was the biggest room available in our house.

 While she was dressing Bessie. I took Bob, and Brian out to meet the puppies, and goats, and chickens. They were good sports, braving our hungry goats, and excited puppies, and poopy chickens. I had them gather eggs, and they even tasted some green onions and mint from my greenhouse. By the time we had done all that, Shirley was ready for me. So Bessie entertained Bob and Brian with some musical instruments she'd made, and Shirley dressed me. That was an interesting experience. She dressed me all the way.

So I had to be pretty much naked. And that was interesting.... Being very naked for my teacher. A May pole---She wrapped me, boobs and all, round and round with many different pieces of cloth, and lots of knots, Very tight knots. It was very squeezy. Shirley was very focused on dressing me authentically. She had purple eyeliner around her eyes, and I watched her work, and felt a kind of awe and appreciation.

 

I don't think anyone has ever dressed me. Not like this. Before. And I felt, a sense of being valuable. Which was, I felt, a gift. Also, an interesting thing was, it was so tight, and un-comfy, I think it distracted me enough from being super afraid.

 

The kimono she dressed me in, a rich pinkish color, with this little wagon with wheels on it. Though it was very tight, with all the knots, I felt beautiful in it. She bought flowers and put them in the funny bow behind me.

 

And then some for my hair.

 

After she dressed me.

I went and did my hair.

 

While she dressed herself, in a kimono, that had been given to her, along with the kotos last played at Topaz camp during WWII 1944, by Tama Nakata Nakamoto.

 

Brian, Shirley, Muramoto, Stephanie, And Bessie far right. Special thank you to Robert C Wong, for taking these beautiful pictures 

 

 

After we were all ready, we loaded everything up. My mom, Sarah, My sister Holly, came in a different car.

Bess and I went together.

And Shirley and her family when in their car.

When we got at the Topaz museum, we set up our kotos, and I guess most of the people from the Pilgrimage came an hour earlier, so the crowd was mostly friends, family, and the choir group I invited to sing with us for sound of silence. A reporter, and members from the community.

As I waited in my chair before we did music, I felt myself heat up in a strange way, and I felt very much, as if I had roots here. It was a present knowing.

Shirley set up a picture of Tama Nakata behind her, and told the audience about her kotos that were played at Topaz and kimono, by Tama, Nakata, that she was wearing the same one as Nakata. ( I guess her father forbade her from playing them after they got out of camp---so as to appear more American, which is very sad) And then we started off by playing okeshi Ningyo" (the Kokeshi Doll, by Chikushi Katsuko) on the kotos.

 

It was very challenging, and I wasn't perfect, but Shirley and her son covered for me, because they could play so well. And we made music together. And all together, we sounded good. My sister also covered for me, because she has a beautiful high voice, and when I had a harder time on some notes, she'd flip up, and cover my own imperfections of my voice.

It was beautiful because Bob was in the background taking pictures and filming it all. And I felt this calm, seeing energy, and he'd nod, and smile, and it was really soothing to me. As I also know from experience what it is like to be taking pictures, in the background.

So I appreciated someone there with a kind seeing, and it felt a completed seeing. Friends, and family from the audience felt seen, I think, as well.

I handed papers out with the words to Amazing grace, and sound of silence, and then we all sang sound of silence, while Shirley played. And it felt good. And I felt this beautiful bubble of love.

 

It was quite profound.

Then we all sang, and played amazing grace together. And it felt amazing, because we were all singing, and I don't know if anyone was not singing.

And it did feel amazing.

I felt like the museum seemed happy, and the people singing felt happy.

Then Brian played the bamboo flute, and Shirley performed a special number, that had been written by a blind koto player called, "Haru no Umi" (the Sea in Spring by Miyagi Michio). It was so beautiful. I do believe Shirley has professional recording of this somewhere on her youtube channel.

After that, Bessie, and her violin student, Tess, (niece of my Journalism teacher) with down's syndrome, played, "Can't help falling in love) And I played along with my flute. Tess was really excited to perform in public, and so this was a special thing.

After that we ended the program with the orange blossom special. We handed out shakers, and clackers, and everyone got to make music with us.

 

Then Shirley said if anyone wanted to stay, she would play the Star spangled banner, as she was going to play for us on Saturday for our music program, and then Friday, May 17, 2024 at the SF Giants game for Japanese Heritage Night.

It was all a beautiful program, and I felt a beautiful energy, despite my own imperfections.

Bess thought that everyone liked it so much they didn't want to go home. 

Bess and I had to go right after, to a Blue notes rehearsal, so Shirley, Bob and Brian had to get supper without us. It was very long day. After rehearsal, we also had to decorate the stage---though we had to redo it, anyway, on Saturday, because everything got moved.

            But overall, it was a beautiful day. 

            Challenging in many ways. 

            One worth writing about.

            A refining day.

            A Topaz day. 

            One I'll remember.