Bliss and Drumming: The Slow Enlightenment of the Hard Rock Drummer

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this track: http://blissanddrumming.com/?p=599

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I had a dream in which I was bathed in the white ash of a fire, the ash caked on like clay. A drum started, and with each beat of the drum, parts of me fell away with the ash, old debris, old ideas, old attachments. Each drum vibration rattled me open, unburdening me, and I became more see-through, until I felt pure, my heart clear as if set in glass. Then, I saw an image of all humanity in the form of my form, millions of people making up the one standing in fire.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming, Clementine reads this piece.

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So now, here I sit having to confront this new form in video recording. Self-compassion has been part of my practice, and it is paying off in that at times I am able to just observe this person here on tape as someone to whom I give love as I work. I know her struggles and the years and years of social pressure to reach some ideal of perfection. I know the trauma of early events and the deep ridges of personality that developed. I know the years of abuse she heaped on herself, in thought and action.

She listened to that inner voice of criticism for so long she believed it to be truth. So I feel compassion for her, for having to listen to that megaphone in her ear for almost as long as I can remember. I edit the images and for every negative idea that rises, I allow it to appear and then dissipate in the vast sky of awareness that is real truth. I hear the judgments and I fall into sky. What can I do in this moment but love? No amount of judgment will change the information on the screen.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.

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The Drover is like a cave, with low ceilings, brick walls and round stucco fireplaces built randomly into small rooms. The lighting is yellow and warm, and the chairs are low wooden ones with rounded backs that set you perfectly to the table. There is a vaguely Spanish feel in the big wooden doors and the beamed ceilings.

Shortly after being seated, a dark mound of bread loaf arrives with the knife stabbed in its heart. It is piping hot and served with iced butter. The whole place smells like the bread. The smell of baking bread affects me deeply in a primal place and I have zero ability to deny its call . I can say that in every fantasy of home life I have ever entertained, the place has smelled like this.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.

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I know it’s worse for the person on the back bench, and any sudden brake will wake her. The van is a cradle I’m trying not to rock. As I drive I keep noticing when I get overly tense, and I feel my arms and hands clenched and heavy. When this happens, I take long deep breathes, into my belly, holding for a moment, and then breathing up and out the center channel of my body, up and out the top of my head. I rest in the heart energy when I feel agitated, and watch as worry and tension rises and falls.

Meanwhile, the trees are silent and watching. I love how the redwoods hug the road and I feel a wave of sadness come through when I see that one was damaged in an accident. The mist lies heavy in the forest, and the van moans and whines as we make our way. I take my stillness from the big trees, and am able to fall into a deep peace as I drive.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.

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It’s funny how naming something, really sitting and allowing the pain to rise and give it space and form, it’s funny how much gets released. In fact, when I look at how I felt then and how I feel now, I see just how much I’ve let go, just how much lighter my outlook. I sat in that studio and wrestled with all the darkness, all of those clawing beasts that kept me unhappy and confused and stuck, and I let them live in songs. And as songwriting goes, there must be a counterpoint to the darkness, and therefore sometimes you find redemption.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece. image source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/aussiegall/

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And what kind of limitations do we project on others in order to keep ourselves feeling safe and knowing? I had a dear friend once who was 30 years older than me, and I was a chameleon, changing daily in my direction. Every time I thought I would shock him with some new revelation, he would register no surprise, no concern, just an open-hearted exuberance for whatever wonky idea I came up with. It was so nourishing to know that he accepted me, no matter what Clem iteration met him that day.

How can we express this unconditional support for those in our lives? When we hear ourselves speak and we are speaking limitation and fear of change, can we catch the words and transform them? My friend wants a change of career or relationship, the young person takes a surprising turn of interest. When we express support for others we give ourselves a break, too, give ourselves permission to change.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.

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It’s an intangible thing, this feeling of belonging to place. I have always reveled in being peripatetic, and my life as a musician is a glory to that. For years I have traveled down roads and spent time in cities new to me. I have played in all states but one, and as I arrive in each place my imagination runs wild. Perhaps this city will draw me in, ring a bell of familiarity and catch me mysteriously in its lovely web. The Carolinas, Minnesota, Sedona, Wisconsin, Chicago, Oregon… all have held this fantasy in my heart. What would be like to set down roots in a place in which I know no one, a place with no connection to any part of my life up until now? I admire the brave immigrant who moves to a place knowing nothing of it. I feel the thrill of discovery when I imagine that.

Through all of that, sitting here, I realize how much I appreciate this land, this state, this coast as connected to something deep in my cells that feels like comfort. The light seems more golden and the window through which I see the world is clear and familiar. The air is softer and my physical being breathes more freely than anywhere else. I often have the thought that if every human experienced this light, this air, this landscape, this sky daily, there could be no question of war or of unrest.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece.

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First off I will say, so there’s no misunderstanding, I love you.

This is not love that needs something from you, or is some sort of burden or expectation you need to carry around with you. I love you with our common heart. Common molecules, common history, common planet, common energy. We are One. I know this is not a popular belief these days with so much side-choosing, but it’s a fact. My love for you is the same energy that lies underneath the love I have for my self and for my family and my pets and my place of manifestation. Love, at the core of myself, this energy shared with you.

Also, I love your music. Your baked goods. The silly things you say and the way you make me laugh. Your capacity for compassion overwhelms me. Your ability to create beauty fills my heart with wonder. You are creative and magnificent and I am blown away at how you fix things, and how you help.

This is a short meditation to let go of physical pain that arises.

Please visit www.patreon.com/clemthegreat for weekly meditations and other personal meditation and energy healing resources.

From the blog www.blissanddrumming.com, Clementine reads this piece. Photo by Frank Ranney.

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I see awakening as remembering to remember. My heart is open, I am an infinite being, the ground of consciousness that I am is expanded and perfect. If I could just remember this, all the time, then I would live in bliss. It’s this bouncing back and forth between ego reality and pure consciousness that is the challenge. If I could just remember to stay awakened I would just stay Awakened.

And if I could just remember to Just Play More Drums, I wouldn’t have to sink down, get bummed and worried and live with all the mental baloney that meets me when dealing with challenges of daily life. If I just remembered to remember, how blissful my state no matter these illusions of moments.