Monday, May 2, 2011

Dave Stringer- Kirtan Pilot

Interview with Dave Stringer
Sydney, March 2011.


That was my first meeting with Dave. I met him during his Kirtan tour in Sydney's area. I liked the guy straight away. Dave is a musician who's successfully marrying two worlds of music. Born and brought up in the Western tradition he's exploring the spiritual aspects of Kirtan and spiritual music of India. 


Q: How can the material connect with the spiritual in doing Kirtan?
A: Spirit can be involved in the way you manage your money, or your organisation. I got a great deal of realisation having to confront these very things. I’m trying to make something accessible for people, and in order to do that it involves, you know sound gear, rental cars, airplane tickets, hotel rooms and all this kind of stuff. I wish I could live in the world where I could walk into the grocery store, and they would say: (impersonating Indian accent) Hey, Kirtan-walla (Indian way of calling a Kirtan musician), with our compliments, you can feed yourself with whatever you like. But that’s not the way it works. You know, the airlines aren’t happy to give me a first class ticket because I’m going to sing mantras. Therefore I need to deal with the modern world. It seems that some people are frustrated, that they have to take this thing on, but if they’re determined, they will eventually find their way through it. The Kirtan audience was never bigger then now. In the last 4 years I played in over 15 countries a year, and I can see it growing.
For example the Kirtan scene in Sydney has grown amazingly. We had about 180 people at the show on Sunday night. There was at least that many people on Wednesday night, and they have sold that many tickets for my next show this coming Saturday. Just two years ago it wasn’t that big. If people are frustrated, then these obstacles are in their own eyes.
Q: Could you name a few people who have influenced you the most? Both, in your personal life, as well as in your career.
A:  Musically first. I can honestly say, that this entire movement (Kirtan movement) owes hugely to George Harrison. I remember myself being a kid and listening to the eastern aspects of the Beatles, and how that certainly had an effect on my thinking culturally. That’s just there.  A few years before that happened we were not aware of these things. That is not just to say that this influenced me, but rather understanding that music can have this spiritual capacity to it, and that can be integrated into what I’m doing. Similarly listening to John Coltrane had the same effect on me. But in the way, which maybe doesn’t seem related, listening to modern composers like Steve Reich, who are interested in the effect of repetition on the mind, have also influenced me in a lot of ways. Paintings of Mark Rothko, where the subject itself was a perception have influenced me. The writings of John Cage have influenced me. There’s an artist in the US names James Turrell, who’s entire work is with light and creating infinite spaces. That influenced me. I was influenced by my first encounters with frontiers of science, and reading books by Heisenberg. So, all of these things were brought to bear upon my art. Even reading poets like Wallace Stevens, or Ted Hughes influenced my direction as an artist. I’m a consumer of art and science, and whether these things seem to be validly spiritual, or not, they still influence the way I’m make the music.
Q: Do you have mentors in your personal life you look up to and take guidance from?
A: Yes, certainly. Those people will sometimes serve for a time because I learned not to invest everything into one teacher; otherwise one ends up being disappointed. I believe in the idea, that everybody has something to teach you.


Q: I’d like to ask you about your  “Flight School”. What is it all about? When I heard about it for the first time, I thought: “well, Dave must be a pilot”.
A: I did actually take flying lessons. And since I was a little boy, airplanes have always been some sort of totemic object in my life. Maybe that was just fore shadowing the relentless world of traveling. But I did a year-round school and took flying lessons. Now I can take off and pilot an aircraft. At some point I realised that getting all the certifications was actually a lifestyle, and an expensive one. And from there you are either going to become a commercial pilot, or a hobbyist with a fairly unlimited budget. For example my father in-law is now a retired pilot, and when I see him we do touch and go’s. I have periodic chances of flying an airplane, and at this point in the case of emergency I can take off, pilot and land an airplane. So that’s there, as this whole mythological dream of flying was there since I was a kid.
I found this quote in the book “Peter Pan” which says: “If you can’t teach me to fly, then teach me to sing”, and that’s what it’s referring directly to.  To fly, in some ways, means to drop the weight of the world and to travel to the other realm. That can be outer, but that also can be inner. So that metaphorically stands for what we are doing with Kirtan.
Even in the practice of my Kirtan there’s a long rolling towards the take-off, and then there’s a point when the jet takes off. What I’m trying to teach people to do is to pilot this aircraft and to do so skilfully. I think that the Kirtan scene will grow bigger as people will get better.  Originally it  was enough to have a love in your heart and to know little bit about Kirtan. Now, when there are enough people doing it, more and more you need to be good and to know what you’re doing. You need to learn how to be a skilful musician, but also to be skilful at working a crowd. To actually be an entertainer, and I mean like the French source word for entertainer, which means to “hold between”. Kirtan means to facilitate and experience and there are certain techniques which are useful and can be learned by people. What I was trying to do was to put a workshop together that is not about Bhakti tradition, or about philosophy per se, although these things are deeply relevant to what we are ultimately doing.
My experience is, that there’s a musician inside of everybody and it’s actually important that this is cultivated. This idea that the artists are somebody else is actually a delusion. For art to have resonance and for art to continue to grow, as a powerful cultural force it is necessary that everybody be a little bit of an artist.  This is what I’m trying to cultivate in people.
Even the smallest desire to become a musician is incredibly powerful. I have found from people’s feedback, that it’s a very powerful experience that force in you. So, on one end I’m trying to give skills to people, who are already musicians- here is how you arrange the Kirtan and make it happen. At the same time I’m helping people who don’t necessary have any skills to enter into that experience of being a musician. It works in the way that the people who are skilful are put together in bands with people who are not musicians yet, so they have to deal with each other.

Q: Do you teach them other things to?
A: It’s all about playing. We put them into bands right from the beginning and on the last night they all lead Kirtan. In the case of this upcoming retreat we will probably do four bands. It’s a very intimate atmosphere, as I need to have a teacher for every 6 people because bands become unworkable if they are bigger then six. We go through each group and basically produce it. We listen first to what people are playing, give suggestions and hold the space for them in order to make some music. Sometimes it means breaking things down very simply. You can make great music out of something really, really simple. That turns out to be a very powerful process. Not only for people who have skill, but also for people who don’t have any. At the end of the retreat each of the groups will lead the Kirtan. Then they realise, that map of the territory is not actually a territory, and all your plans go out the window if you actually play in front of the live audience.

Q: So that’s how you teach to fly? You push them out of their nest and let them learn flying?
A: Yep, that’s what we do. And it’s always ecstatic. Even though the first hours feel like people are going to kill me.

Q: Is that because singing is one of the most challenging things for us to do in life?
A: Right. And people just need to jump into that.

Q: Why do you think we suddenly become so self-conscious when it comes to singing?
A: Because there’s very little we can do about our voice that we can conceal about ourselves. Especially when there’s just pure singing, and on the top of that it’s Sanksrit. You can’t even get behind some “meaning” to copy the attitude. We are afraid that people will find out what’s really on our minds, and it’s terrifying to be that naked and transparent in front of others.  With time you get used to it. I often go into the Kirtan with an idea, that everybody can read my mind. It doesn’t mean that I need to clean up what’s on my mind, I just need to be exposed in that way.

Q: Do you have people who sometimes get stuck and blocked and they can’t sing?
A: Yes, for sure. I remember this one guy during my Kirtan in Toronto. He was sitting there the entire time with his arms crossed and looked totally miserable.
In the past I used to chant with my eyes closed, but then I realised that chanting with my eyes open was more powerful. For me it’s important to keep looking at people, and making the connection to share that space. It is encouraging and sets the whole thing in another way. So I’m periodically scanning the crowd to see what’s happening and I keep looking at this guy. Finally at the end he got up to leave and stood at the door. Just before leaving he looked at me as if to say goodbye. It seemed interesting to me as through the entire time he was looking so miserable and now he’s standing at the door clearly trying to make some connection with me to let me know that he’s going. I was thinking: whatever, see ya. The next day I have received an email from this guy. That experience had just blown him open and changed everything for him. He said: I can’t tell you how grateful I’m, and how fantastic it was.
I thought to myself: "you haven’t even sung."
I learned then not to judge people too quickly during my concerts.
Similar things happen during my retreats. Some people make huge leaps, some move a few inches, but for both it is an enormous progress.

Q: How did it feel when you received such an appreciative email?
A: I don’t take it personally in the way that I see myself as a powerful person. I think: Wow! This is powerful! This actually turns out to be powerful even if you’re directly not participating in it.

Q: How do you take it, when somebody comes to you and tells you that he, or she felt that came from you? They appreciate what you gave them personally.
A: I don’t take it on. I can’t hold that space for people. I believe, that whatever they experience it’s coming from them. It’s very typical in humans to project that onto somebody else, but I’m just a facilitator. I’m responsible in the sense that I showed up and caused this event to happen, but it’s injuries to others and me if I take it personally. I’m not trying to set up some teacher-student relationship, or some power-dynamic.

Q: So you don’t perceive yourself as a transparent via medium channelling the energy?
A: Well, you could make that case, but I don’t see myself that way. When people come to my retreat and tell me they want to learn from me, I’m happy to do that. But I also learned how to step out of that space. When it is time to teach I teach, but I’m not trying to hold that space when that’s done. It could seem, that I’m investing myself in some kind of delusion I don’t really need. I can see the temptations. There were times when I sung for thousands of people, and I thought: Wow! I moved that crowd.
You can see then, how you can get drunk on that, but I also see a capacity there for danger. My tendency is to hold up a mirror and reflect people’s stuff back at them. If you see something beautiful don’t try to project that on me, but see your own beauty. I feel humble for being part of it by facilitating, but I believe that nothing can work outside of going inside, unless the inside is already there. For example any drugs work when you take them because you already have the chemistry to support it. It’s like, when you smoke marijuana you already have Cannabinoid receptors in your body and that’s how it works. It’s like cats get high on catnip, and can’t have enough of this. You may think: wow, give me some of that, but it doesn’t do anything to humans. It doesn’t work for our chemistry. Anything exogenous, or coming from outside, has an endogenous, or coming from inside, receptor.  Otherwise it wouldn’t work.  Somebody can tell you: I’m gonna give you the experience of your true-self, and it works. But how is that possible? It was possible because they have just woken up something, which was already inside of you. In physics there’s a phenomena called sympathetic vibrations. That means that any two objects tuned to the same frequency will vibrate at the same frequency. It’s like if I put my foot on the sustain pedal on the piano and let all the strings open to ring, and then I hit tuning fork across the room, a string which is tuned to that will go off.
And this is what happens with people who have some experiences while chanting. In the process of chanting they have somehow put their foot on the sustain pedal, and all I have done is to hit the tuning fork. And then the string, which is already tuned to that within them rings, but they’re making the mistake saying that I’m the causative element. I mean: yes, I hit the tuning fork.


Q: That’s a beautiful way of explaining it.
A: The thing, which you feel vibrating, is inside of you so don’t make me responsible. Take the responsibility for what’s is already in you. This is the big defect of the West that we are trying to address here. The West makes the Divine the exogenous, whereas the East by immediately looking inward for the Divine is essentially discovering the Divine mechanism within us. I’m not saying that the God is not “out there”. I’m saying that, saying that He is “out there” doesn’t preclude that he is inside too. And since “out there” can be pretty faraway or subject to all kinds of perceptual difficulties it seems that it’s rather better to cultivate my sense of being “in here”. And if I have that perception, then if I look in any direction I can see it. That seems as a better perception to have.
A: Thank you very much for your time.
Q: It has been a pleasure to talk to you. 

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Kriyatma Swami- Yoga of Gardening


I recently travelled to Satyananda Yoga ashram in Mangrove Mtn. where I had a great pleasure to meet Swami Kriyatma. Swami, along with a dedicated team and help of stunning nature, runs a fantastic Yoga community. You can definitely  feel that spiritual buzz there!





Q: How did your spiritual journey start?

A: My encounter with yoga started through my mother. Yoga started to be available in the early 60’s and she started attending the classes as householders did in those days. So that’s my first memory, of her teaching me things she has learned in class. That was in the day of fishnet stockings, and leotards. Similarly to my mum, many people in Australia have started their yoga in those days.
My introduction to yoga other than from my mother was at the university. In the early 70’s yoga and counterculture was flowing at that time. I came from quite a strong sport background. I was always physically very fit and quite strong. There was a lot physical awareness of my body, but the technique was lacking.
I started practising yoga basically to improve my surfing, and it helped me extraordinarily.  I was practising “Side rowing”, and half of my body was developed and the other half wasn’t. Through yoga I could bring my body back into balance, and ultimately it really helped my surfing. So maybe my motivation to start yoga was a bit material, but it doesn’t matter. It works for you anyway.
I got into some books on yoga, and started practising. And as always, when you become serious about something the teacher arrives.  I came to Mangrove for a week in 1983 and Swami Satyananda was visiting at that time. After two days I have rung up the work and told them:  catch ya later (laughs).

Q: So that was your turning point in your yoga journey?
A: Yes.
Q: Do you remember how it felt to make such a big step?
A: Yes, I was very keen on finding answers to questions I hadn’t even managed to articulate. He had formed the questions for me and gave the answers. One of the key topics, which struck a cord in me, was the interconnection between the body and mind. Intellectually it’s very handy to separate our body from our feelings and emotions, but in reality there’s no separation between those two. So there was recognition of the energetic part of who I was, meaning seeing myself as a spirit, not as the material body. He was also teaching Kriya Yoga back then and I took to that instantly. It was rapid introduction to my subconsciousness.
I was exposed to this mixture of practice, and his philosophy, which was a combination of his guru, Swami Shivananda’s teachings and his own practice. His guru was a Vedanti and he also drew from a Tantric tradition. Swami Satyananda, using both, made yoga very accessible to general people.
I remember two great phrases from him from that time:
“If you’re standing at the end of the cliff and you know that to jump is not good for you, then certainly don’t jump. But if you’re not sure, then definitely jump. He said: Say yes to live and don’t let fear to be your guide.  Life is rich and benevolent”.  That really struck me.
And another one was when somebody has asked him about his personal understanding of the nature of God. His response was: “None of your business. I have my personal thing, and you have yours. I’m here to talk about the science of Yoga and the rest you need to work out by yourself, rather then taking on my experience”.  I’ve found that very liberating.
That was his approach at that time of his life.  Following his writing I have understood that he was still discovering himself. Later, in India someone had asked him some technical question about yoga. He replied: “Ah, Yoga. I used to be into yoga. In fact I have written many books on this subject. Perhaps you could consult those.  And if you can’t find the answers then you should go to…what’s his name? Swami Niranjana. He’s into yoga. Myself? I’ve forgotten all of that.  All I’m interested in now is God, and my direct experience of God. I’m happy to talk to you about God.  Perhaps we can even talk about cricket. But as far as yoga goes, it was a technique to take me to that experience.” 
He said on other occasions too: “If I could find a more direct pathway, I would have taken it.  I’d drop yoga tomorrow without hesitation.  That was nothing else then the technology to help me find the essential reality”.
Q: So what is yoga to you?
A: It’s a technology; it’s a way of life, applying these technologies to enhance my life.  I’m not so personally driven now by higher experience, maybe because I was humbled by this normal life. What I’m really after now is some common sense and capacity to act in a kind and mindful way with people.
Q: I understand that you have begun with yoga as the end and the means to the perfection, but this evolved.
A: That’s right. For many years of my life I was very much focused on my practice, but Kriya Yoga takes you to the point in life, where you realise that in you there is as much as you need to live in the world and go further.
Q: What is Kriya Yoga about in the nutshell?
A: It’s a Kundalini Yoga practise. And as in all Kundalini Yoga practices you balance your ida and pingala nadi to stimulate shushumna and move it from its base to the higher level. In doing that there’s a lot of purification taking place. And that’s what happens when you encounter your subconsciousness with absolutely no distance between. When you gradually develop vairagya, or detachment you learn how to not identify anymore with your thoughts and feelings.
 If you can’t do it you are unable to move further in the process. When it took me to this point I was focusing more on what I was getting rid of rather then what I was acquiring. Often we measure progress by what we acquire like knowledge, technique, rather then what we getting rid off.  These days I focus more on what I get rid off. That’s my measurement of progress.
Q: What are the specific things you get rid off?
A: Anger, material desires, physical desires and identification with emotions. I’m not saying that I’ve lost my emotions by any means, but my identification with them has reduced with time.
Q: What yoga has to do with gardening? I’ve heard that you’re the person who has started a garden here.
A: One of the things you’ll see here is the focus on Karma Yoga. Karma Yoga is the major yoga practise here, and that’s my yoga these days. Not Kriya, or Hatta, but Karma Yoga.
If I was to define Karma Yoga here, that’s a single point of focus on a task at hand, when the things drop away and we achieve the point of single focus. We start with simple tasks like sweeping, gardening and then bit-by-bit we can efficiently deal with more complex tasks. I can see that gardening plays many roles here in the ashram. Firstly as a Karma Yoga, and secondly as an educational task. So many people who visit here have forgotten the skill of gardening. They don’t know how potatoes or carrots look like when you pull them out of the ground. They don’t know how to plant seeds, harvest or prune. We’ve got the garden to help develop these skills as well as provide good food.
I had the time of my life, when my partner and myself established the first, certified organic garden in Tasmania. Having a bit of the background from there I was able to establish our garden here in Mangrove. When I get into the garden, for me it’s a time to get away from my normal work. Big part of yoga is balance, and when you spend too much time with philosophy, and not in practice, or too much time practicing and not enough time with philosophy that creates imbalance on your path. Middle path is always the best choice.  Part of me achieving the middle path is going to do work in the garden.  I also believe when you work with such an understanding in mind, then others, by bio-osmosis develop such an understanding too.  Garden is just a very good place to mix attitude with some physical action.

Q: My grandfather used to say that he feels closer to God while working in the garden.
A: Yes, there have been many fine poems written on this same topic. It’s such a natural thing for us human to do. It’s natural for us to work, do work with our hands in those elements like soil etc.
Q: Sages say that there are three types of sport recommended for the  renunciates: swimming, wrestling, and gardening. Doing that, we are close to the elements of creation, and that keeps us healthy.
A: That’s why I always enjoyed surfing, being close to water and sky, and being focussed on the ether.
Coming back to gardening, I believe that it’s a very important skill to develop as a human. It’s a fundamental skill. Cooking is another one. We should be able to cook and celebrate being human by what we are eating, not just nutritionally imbibing food. It’s fine to do it for a while, to develop tapas (austerity) and not overly identify ourselves with food, but I don’t see anything wrong in enjoying what we are doing. I personally tend to keep myself away from people who are overly serious and extreme. Middle path is the way.
Q: Did you have that extreme period in your life?
A: Yes, as it was part of our generation. We were collectively excessive. And in terms of Purusha-arthas (religious activities namely: artha-knowledge; dharma- religion; kama-pleasures; moksha-liberation) we didn’t go through Artha, we went straight for Kama-sense gratification. And of course all my generation had to go back and deal with Artha (laughs), before we could get to Dharma.
I’m a baby boomer generation, and our generation bypassed all material convenances, went straight into the Kama and later had to deal with it.

Q: Do you see any difference in approach to yoga between the current, and your generation?
A: There’s definitely a shift. One of the things, which was observed in my generation, was a move from dependence to independence. We were very keen on exhibiting our independence in doing whatever we wanted, where as this generation now has much greater sense of interdependence and I call it a higher mind.  My generation was very dependent on the family, so what we did, we rejected our families.  We went on following our own path, which we called our destiny. And we did it without limitations.  We didn’t understand basic limitations, like for example being mindful of those around us. I think we were a selfish generation. 
I believe that this generation has stronger understanding of interdependence, or higher-mindedness. That’s the biggest difference. Here in the ashram you can observe far more openness and celebration of Karma Yoga. We weren’t so good at it in my generation.
Look at the environmental awareness. Before we used to talk a lot about it and wanted to be involved in big things.  Today, young people are involved. They walk their talk. They’re involved in big, and small things. They have global concerns, but they’re also act on practical solutions in their lives. 

Q: Do you still experience moments of weakness, or setbacks after being for quite a few years now on this path of self-realisation?
A: I don’t think we escape duality. I don’t think that the goal is to have fewer challenges. The frequency actually increases, but our capacity to deal with them also increases. I don’t find it in any way less challenging living here, than I found it 20 years ago.
The difference is that it doesn’t bother me so much any more. It’s not a question of “let’s bring it on”, since I’m no longer in despair to face these things.  I have this confidence now, that in most situations the outcome will be benevolent. In the big picture, the importance of this outcome being positive is being less. I believe that in the larger picture the outcomes are positive, and setbacks are part of life. Without them we will be flat lining.
Q: You might think, being a young person that it is a bit discouraging seeing senior person still experiencing challenges. We often hope that there will be no more problems when we advance on our path.
A: It could be discouraging to some. I think that if people get caught up with the goal at the end being life without challenge, then I don’t think that’s a healthy way to live the present and they will be disappointed down the line. Unless I have just missed the point- and that’s of course possible.
Watching life over the years I can see, and this is obviously without being masochistic, that pain is the crucial principle of the revolution. Without that we don’t develop and expand. If we believe that we can live a life on earth without challenges, that’s a prescription for disappointment. What do you think?
Q: I totally agree.  What’s your perspective on the situation in the modern world where on one hand you see the progression towards bad things in general, and on another hand there is a positive shift in this global consciousness?
A: First, nobody really knows what the future is going to be like. It really depends on what we decide what the future is going to be like based on our collective positivity or negativity. I can find plenty of evidence to feel negative about it, and I can find plenty to feel positive about it.  I also think that typically things get worse before they get better. This seems to be the way humans learn.  On an absolutely personal level, my focus is on the present. That, to me, seems to be a great secret in life: to be NOW.
It’s grand to have goals and aspirations, what have you. If I put it on a scale in order to balance it then the presence is about what is happening now, and it’s more important to me.  Celebrate the presence and go with the positive. That becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  On the other hand if you go with a negative, then it also becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.  So that’s why I remain positive in that area and don’t dwell too much on that.
I know it sounds clichéd, but I believe in “being in NOW and in the present”.

Q: I can totally relate what you’re saying as at this moment I’m reading “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle. You can find it in many scriptures. Paraphrasing Gita : “You can’t experience reality if you’re not in presence”.  It looks like this is the only way to live a happy life in this world.
A: Yes. Few years ago I had a wonderful time with one of my teachers. I sat with him and asked: “Please tell me what is the secret. Put all the things aside, let’s stop all other talk, and tell me the secret”. He thought for a second and replied: “This is the secret. It’s now”. So this is the secret for me, and I’m coming from there. I haven’t mastered it by any means, but if I had an aspiration, then it would be to be more in the present.
Things, which are taking us away from the present, particularly in the western society, are the identification with the mind, and labelling things in the light of attraction and aversion. That’s our inner dialog. We like that, we don’t like this. We want to avoid this, and we want more of that. Whenever we’re doing that, we are no longer in the present.
Q: I’ll just shift the gears a bit. Do you still conduct the classes, and teach?
A: Yes, but less then previously. I’m involved with Yoga Studies Courses here. I’ll teach when we have gaps, and I’ll fill in there and take a part of it.
Q: Are you the head of the educational department here?
A: Yes, I am, but that’s not a statement of the intellectual attainment. It’s a statement of tenacity of working with bureaucratic matters. 
Q: Well, I believe that this is also your humility speaking here.
A: This is at least how I see it. Without any false-humbleness, I can see that I’m pretty good at facilitating that particular department. In terms of teaching, I don’t do a lot of it. I’ll do a percentage of it, particularly at the end of the teaching path, where you concentrate on how you teach a good Satyananda Yoga class. That’s because I have done a lot of that. I’ve got something I can contribute there.  The other part I teach is for our local residents.
If I have time I run weekly residents class for people who have been living here for an extended period of time. During that I look at some intermediate or progressive practices. That helps people to have a good experience in the safe environment like this.  I think that this is one of the shames that we have perhaps collectively lost the respect of how potent and confronting these practices are if you do them in a regular and strong way. It’s an important thing for our residents to practice them regularly in a safe environment and for an extended period of time.
Q: It looks like you’re trying to create a peaceful and predictable environment where people can live and practice yoga.
A: The word peaceful is a very interesting here (laughs). I don’t think that practice ever ends up peaceful. If you’re doing your practice, there are going to be periods of un-peace. Even without the distractions of being in the city, and the capacity to escape. The ashram here allows one to actually develop the acquaintance with our essential nature. You can’t pretend here being somebody else. You can’t escape from who you are.
Being here seven days a week, 24hrs a day, you will get from people around you feedback in one way or another. So whatever façade you’re holding onto is compelled to fall away.  And that’s quite beautiful when that happens. Our ashram is design to not to be that hard on people, being pure tapas (austerity), but it’s designed to be a little bit of tapas going. It’s too easy to become comfortable without that. Where there’s too much comfort the growth doesn’t happen there.
Q: Do you remember your moments of trying to hide here?
A: Yes. I did couple of things here. I came here with quite a bit of personal anger. You know, unresolved anger over my life. My secret was to hide my anger, rather then expressing it. Of course you can express anger positively, or you can express it negatively as well as suppress it. And that’s why you need that bit of this energy here, to stop that suppression. And then hopefully you can express it positively.
Q: So, how can you express it in a positive way?

A: Physical expression as well as hard work and sweat.
Q: To burn the anger?
A: Yes, physically expressing it in a positive way rather then holding onto it, or scaring other people, or yourself with your anger. This approach is being at the heart of this yogic tradition. This is what we are good at. If you look around this place you can see it. Our work ethic is very good. It’s our major sadhana (practice) from breakfast till at least dinner-doing Karma Yoga. They are doing Karma, and hopefully Karma Yoga on the top of that (laughs).
Q: Yes, I can see it. This place looks fantastic. Thank you very much for your time.
A: It’s been a pleasure. Thank you.

You can read about Satyananada Yoga at:  www.satyananda.net

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Shree Shyam


Q: How did your musical journey start?
A: I got my first drum when I was seven. It was a gift from my parents--a mridanga, a traditional two-headed Indian drum. I played a mridanga every day until I was 17.
Q: Was that during your spiritual education at the Hare Krishna school?
A: Yes, my father was running Miami’s Hare Krishna temple, so I grew up in the community. When I was 10, I asked my parents to send me to a gurukula (ashram school) in Vrindavan, India, and I stayed there for four years, from 1982 to 1986. That’s where I met Sri Prahlada (www.sriprahlada.com) and GauraVani (www.gauravani.com). I left the school when I was 14, and a year later, I took my vows and worked as a full-time priest at the Miami temple.
Q: Sounds like a lot of discipline for a natural musician.
A: Yes, I received good training in sadhana (spiritual discipline). In the 10 years I lived in ashrams, I rarely missed morning prayers and meditation sessions. It was fun, and I feel like I deposited lots of money into my spiritual bank account (laughs).  I was fully absorbed in my spiritual practice. I didn’t even see my first movie until I was 17.
Q: Wow! What was it?
A: “Married to the Mob,” with Michelle Pfeiffer. A real ‘80s movie, right? (laughs)
Q: Well, that’s an interesting introduction to the world of movies. How did you end up learning Western instruments? Did you play bass and drums in Vrindavan?
A: No, that was later, in Miami. Some Indian visitors to the temple who liked my mridanga playing gave me an old drum set, and that’s how it started. After that, people kept giving me different instruments, like more drums and keyboards.  
Q: Did you go to music school?
A: No. I always wanted to study music, but my dad suggested that I have something solid to fall back on, so I studied journalism.
Q: Did it feel like punishment?
A: No, not at all. I love journalism, writing, and editing.
Q: How do you use your journalism skills?
A: I’ve been an editor for several newspapers, magazines, book publishers, and websites.
Q: So, did you go straight to New York from the ashram in Miami?

A:  After college, I lived in San Francisco for nine years, and I had a great time. I did a lot of writing and editing, and I played in lots of different bands, everything from bebop to disco to funk to circus music—even with a tabla quartet!  What I liked most, though, were the people I met there. Everybody was really supportive of what I did, and they always accepted my spiritual journey. Looking back, I’d say that living in San Francisco was pretty peaceful.
Q: The peace didn’t last long?
A: (Laughs) New York was a whole different flavor. San Francisco’s pretty laid-back, but New York is crazy and kinda over-caffeinated.
Q: How did that affect your life?
A: I jumped right into the music and journalism scene. I moved to New York to be editor-in-chief of Bass Guitar magazine, and I gave it everything I had—I ate, slept, and dreamt about how to make the magazine better. I also kept playing around town with some great New York musicians. When the magazine folded, I worked as a freelance copy editor for the City of New York and at Rolling Stone, Vibe, and Computer Shopper. I had always dreamed of working on magazines, so it was cool to be doing it on a world-class level.
Q: How did you end up playing with Gauravani in Australia? Do you play often together?
A: This is only our second tour together, which is crazy considering the fact that I’ve known him since he was six years old and I was 12! We hung out together in the early ‘90s, and at the time, he asked me to play music with him, but it took until Bhakti Fest last year for us to seriously talk about doing some traveling and playing. Last year, we went to South Africa and Botswana together, and that was great, and now we’re here.
Q: Did you like South Africa?
A: I loved it! I have to go back. One of the interesting things is that I finally made it to the “motherland,” but I saw the whole country through the eyes of South African Indians! They were amazing hosts, but I definitely need to go back and hang out with some black South Africans. We were there to do kirtan, not as tourists, so I’m going to make another trip to soak up some local culture, visit more countries, and learn more about the continent.
Q: How did you make it to New York?
A: I was feeling restless after nine years in San Francisco, so I bought a multi-city plane ticket and said to the Man Upstairs (laughs), Dude, if you have a plan for me, please let me know. Right after that, my brother called to tell me an old family friend had recommended me for a drum gig with a Polish Hare Krishna reggae band called Village of Peace. On the way to Europe, I stopped in New York and hung out with a friend of mine in Brooklyn, a great drummer, who told me he was looking for a roommate. The same day, I went to lunch with another friend who was editor-in-chief for Bass Guitar magazine. He totally blew me away by offering me the job! The timing was perfect. I came back from traveling through Poland, Germany, the Czech Republic, Denmark, and the Netherlands, packed my bags, and headed to New York.
Q: Do you still write?
A: Occasionally, but it’s not my main thing right now. When my wife Lila and I left New York in 2009, we stored our stuff at her family’s house in Chicago and moved to India for four months.
Q: Big move! What did you do in India?

A: We flew into Mumbai and traveled around for four months. It was quite an experience to finally return to India for the first time since 1987, and it was amazing to see how much things had changed—and how little other things had changed—since I’d been there.
Q: I imagine being back after 22 years was very special. What affected you most?
A: Going back to Vrindavan and doing a 40-day solitary retreat in Himachal Pradesh.
Q: I thought you did the retreat with Lila. Did you ask her not to talk to you during your retreat?
A: I didn’t talk to anyone during the retreat, and I didn’t check email or use a phone. Lila helped me a lot with logistics before the retreat, and she was very supportive. We had been in India for about a month when we parted ways, and while I did my retreat, she travelled, made new friends, and did a 10-day silent retreat herself.
Q: So tell me more about your experience. Why 40 days?
A: There’s a tradition among Hindustani classical musicians of doing 40-day solitary, musical retreats, called chillas. A friend of mine who’s a tabla player received guidance from Zakir Hussain about it, and he did it twice, both times in India; he’s the one who turned me on to it. A very similar tradition of 40-day isolation, called khalwa, exists among some strict Sufis, who use the time to fast and pray.
Q: Jesus did it, too, right?
A: Yes, and so did Moses, Buddha, and St. Patrick. It’s just the right length of time for you to reflect on your life, to be with yourself, and to hear what the universe is saying within you. I spent my chilla in a one-bedroom cottage, which I never left. Three times a day, someone would knock on my door, leave a plate of food on my doorstep, and walk away; I’d get the plate, eat, wash it, and leave it for them to pick up. I never saw another human being during the entire 40 days, though. It was just me and me, sometimes talking to myself in the mirror. My friend the tabla player told me to expect some serious tests and strong emotions, and all the way up until day 30, it was indeed intense but very good.
Q: What happened after that?
A: Well, I started my retreat in August, during the warm and wet monsoon season, but by early September, a month later, the weather had started to cool down. So there I was, up in the Himalayas, living in this cottage on the edge of a pear orchard, when the creatures from the orchard decided they wanted to come inside the house to stay warm. Before I knew it, I was in this small room with the biggest spiders I’ve ever seen in my life, and I couldn’t leave—by my own choice! They were all around the room, just sitting on the walls and chillin’ on the ceiling. I could hear them during the night, crawling on the floor, the walls, and the blinds. I’ve been afraid of spiders for as long as I can remember, so it was pretty hard not to freak out!
Q: Did you see them as some type of messengers, trying to teach you something?
A: Yes! I even had dreams where I was being reassured that the spiders were not going to hurt me, but the mind is very powerful. Despite the fact that they never really threatened me, I must admit that it was very difficult to maintain my practice and meditation regimen for those last 10 days. But I made it through—in fact, I lost count of the days, and I stayed an extra 24 hours.


There were many beautiful moments, too. I remember how once, after being in the room for about 30 days, I was eating my dinner in silence, with the lights off. I looked through the window at the sky and saw something I hadn’t seen in a month: the moon! It hit me then how we take things like that—the moon—for granted. I appreciated her in such a deep way at that moment… It was as if we were on a date, just the two of us, and I was so moved by this feeling that I wrote a short melody on the spot. When I went to sleep, I said, see you tomorrow. I’ll be here and I hope you will be, too.
Q: Was the moon your connection with the outside world?
A: It represented feminine warmth and affection. It was a very amazing moment.
Q: Would you do the retreat again?
A: Definitely, and I recommend it to anyone else, too. Everyone should experience what it’s like to not be on anybody else’s schedule for 40 days. After living in New York for 4½  years, I was ready to enjoy the silence, practice music, read, and think about what I want to do with my life. Without a doubt, doing a chilla was the best gift I ever gave myself, and it gave me a deep appreciation for the people in my life. Doing the retreat helped me get to know myself better, and I do believe that the better one knows oneself, the better one can be in relationship.
Q: How did this retreat affect you artistically?
A: In so many ways. One of the things it gave me was a certain ability to concentrate, breathe deeply and work through challenging musical passages, for example. I had a book on theory and harmony with me, and sometimes the material seemed very difficult. My natural habit had always been to procrastinate and avoid tough stuff, but the retreat gave me time to retrain my brain to think, Why put it off? Why not do it now?
 I also channeled and recorded about 100 melodies, and I spent 10-12 hours a day practicing bass, as well as practicing and programming my Roland Handsonic, an electronic drum pad. I’m still working on stuff I began learning during the chilla.  
Q: Shyam, it sounds as though you’ve been gifted with an amazing life. I hope you keep playing and enlightening people with your spirit and amazing music. Thanks for your time.

A: It was a pleasure. Thanks!


Direction from above.


It’s 4am, and I’m seating at the beach meditating, praying for direction and mercy. Above me are stars, glittering the night. Since time immemorial, people looked into the sky for direction. Southern Cross, with its beautiful constellation is there for me. Where are you going to take me? Where should I go, and what    is awaiting me there? Waves crushing gently remind me of my childhood, and walks on the beach. Being alone means so much to me. When I’m alone,  later I can give so much more to others when we reunite.
Amongst the starts, proudly with the half face down is the moon. Not in his best shape this morning, but still taking the charge in this spectacle of black and silver above my head.
Amongst many stars illuminating the sky moon always stands out. With it’s cooling rays reassuring us, that things will pass:  I’ve seen many like you -staring at me, and you’re all gone. What will happen to you if you won’t find you way before time to go?
Gita says that the moon is God’s eye. Are You looking at me now- with Your eye half closed? If you’re, please help me with direction and courage. I can’t do it on my own. I’m not talking just about this blog. I mean life!
I’m reflecting on all the bright moons appearing in my life so far. In the darkness, shining brighter then the stars, my friends, guides, strangers who have helped me before, and will keep helping, as long as I’ll stay open and receptive. It’s so easy to miss a good friend in the crowd of stars. I’m looking here for moons. People who shine brighter then the rest of us. They illuminate the darkness, and help others to lit up. We wouldn’t be able to make any progress without the help of others. I’m praying to the Creator of this vast sky, for his sweet mercy to make me meet great souls, and to inspire others by their stories.
I wish I had a camera to photograph the soul. Is this possible at all? The Song Of God says, that the intelligent can see the invisible Atma through their eyes of knowledge. I’ll attempt here to photograph and present that spiritual spark, which is in all of us. Spiritual journey is the same for all of us. It doesn’t discriminate and choose. I’m here, seating in the boatshed at Bundeena, Australia. You, reading this- can be somewhere else. We feel the same urge to discover our spiritual origins. When this search for truth heats us in the heart we can’t resist searching and looking all around till we find that missing element, the secret of our spirituality.
I’m made of mercy of people, who are my inspiration, the people I’ve met on my path. Without them I’ll still think, that finding pleasure is the end of the world. I’m eternally grateful to God for sending those great souls. I’ll try to humbly and with gratitude reflect some of my experiences of meeting people who shine bright in this often dark world.