Sharon Stewart
Deep Listening Certificate
2008-2010
Second Quarterly Report
November, December 2008, January 2009
Maintaining a Practice
I have somehow been reluctant to start this report. It is not that I am dissatisfied with what I have done the last three months. It is more a general feeling, an old feeling of having many things sprouting off and finishing nothing. Feeling fuzzy, unfocused, energy streaming into possible dead ends. Yeah, I guess it is dissatisfaction.
I try to remember that our four birthdays, Thanksgiving, Sinter Klaas (the BIG Dutch celebration for kids) Christmas, all were in the last three months, and try to remember that winter is a time for turning inwards, for quiet time, frost, stillness, before the springtime burst.
But the fire side of my character wants to make plans, to work through plans and produce. This is a true fight for me. A struggle to listen, meditate, let go. As I wrote a couple of weeks ago after a listening meditation:
wrestling, wrestling with my monkey mind
you are not the sum of your thoughts
you are not the sum of your words
you are not the sum of your products
you are not the sum of your actions
It doesn’t help that I am (re-)preparing a lecture for the course Women’s Representations of Eros and Pathos for March. Re-reading a book on Meredith Monk, delving into YouTube documentaries or interviews with her, getting a glimpse of Nina Hagen, Yoko Ono, Lena Lovich, CocoRosie (HA! what a bunch), Sheila Chandra, Bjork, Zeena Parkins... watching and re-watching the works by IONE. Now receiving and starting the book Sounding Out about Pauline Oliveros. Absorbing what I can of the works of these strong women, creative women, with their worlds of experience and expertise, I feel on one hand continually stimulated and inspired and also a bit small and lost.
Recording with Logic has also reached a sort of plateau. The quick learning curve is now over, and I am struggling with creating something interesting. Still haven’t managed to get my silent piano (Yamaha) to be recognized through the Midi input. The recordings of the piano sound hollow even after an hour of working through the equalizer presets. To try to get the small direct mikes hung into the piano seems like too big a task to squeeze into my morning working sessions. I’m not happy with the quality of my voice. Whine, whine, whine, gripe, moan… ok…
Dreaming
I am starting to notice some themes and symbols that come up regularly in my dreams the last days:
 planes leaving and me not being ready (!!!)
 maps and finding new places
 me being with my sister or a friend on vacation
 clothing, especially handmade clothing or cloth
 a woman or man with whom I am infatuated (secretly or with a wave of emotion, like a first love)
 an ‘end of the world’ situation, with uncertainties
 open house-like structures
 dangerous animals moving about
 steep dirt walls around a meeting place (like a conference) where you can easily slide off
 bathroom floors covered with water, blood, fecal matter
Writing them down, there seems to be an underlying layer of anxiety. Adventure, but also no solid ground under my feet. Much, much confrontation with my need to control.
22 nov 2008
Il Torro de St. Benedicto
David and I are in Spain. We are in a small apartment. There are sunny, cobbled, crowded, chaotic streets. I go to a tall church. ‘Il Torro de St. Benedicto’ I say later to someone who asks me where we live. The tower is tall, and I have climbed it with Persephone. I look at the walls of the tower which are made of big stone blocks. There is plastic woven netting covering the walls, hanging down from the top as if there is still renovation going on. I know there is a gigantic organ built into the wall, even though I don’t really see it. We are on a ledge with chairs, a bit bumpy and leaning toward the abyss of the church. I can’t see the bottom but get worried because every time I move, I seem to be heading toward plummeting off the edge. I finally decide to work myself back toward the doorway where the stairs are to go down. The stairs turn out to be a long spiral ramp covered with a sort of beige gravel. I slowly spiral my way down.
Chased by the Polar Bear
I am in a building with all kinds of white structures and layers. There is a polar bear loose in the building. We keep trying to find a place that is closed off aginst the polar bear, but all the structures seem essentially open. I have someone with me who I am also very busy trying to protect and lead away from the polar bear.
4 dec 2008
Turi and the Tree
Turi is standing with three other people, surrounding a young tree, planted for her. Suddenly, using their energy and lifting her arms, she can push, wiggle, move herself up toward the sky. [Turi is a high school friend who chose to leave this life in October]
5 dec 2008
Leaving the Meeting
I am in a room with lots of other ‘students’. It is like we are in a club that feels a little restrictive, like a bad sort of girl scouts. The room is filled with rows and rows of desks. Each desk has a paper packet on it. One girl is going to get up and talk about her experiences in the church/Youth group of my old church/camp. I need to go to the restroom and move out. There is more shit and water on the floor. I am outside. There is open water, boats, bits of wood sticking up into the air. I am decidedly not going back in that room. I meet Clyde and Steve outside. They are hanging out by the water. We have a chat, kind of laughing. I meet some girl and tell her something about why I didn’t go back to the meeting.
23 dec 2008
Everyone can Play
I am playing music for an amateur production. Everything should overlap, form a smooth whole, but it is a medley of uncoordinated parts. I have all these papers that I am trying to organize. Much anxiety that they are falling/upside down/getting lost or in the wrong order. We are talking about the way it is going and one of the participants sits down at the piano and plays what she thinks it should sound like, how she thinks it should go. She plays it by heart and with a great accompaniment pattern. I am struck that actually everyone can play. But, I think, they have only worked on that one part. I have to be able to play the whole thing.
26 dec 2008
Electronic Equipment and the broken Mike
I am at a table of electronic equipment. Something looks like a cross between a keyboard and a sound monitor, kind of accordion-shaped. It is stuff from neighbors that they are giving away, having cleaned out. Old stuff, but with the potential to make nice sounds. They tell me they are going to give it to another friend of mine. I am a bit angry and jealous. Why her instead of me?? She likes rock?? I am with Merel, she is pulling things out of a duffel bag. She shows me a broken mike. The mike has a sort of plastic cage around it, and the thing is broken. She thinks others have gotten into her stuff and broken it. I tell her it might have gotten crushed in the duffel ba, that she should perhaps think of getting a hard case for it.
The Brontosauruses
There is a jungle set, obviously fake, with water that fits into a room. A woman/actress/me?? is wading through the water, pushing branches aside, touching flowers and fruits. Suddenly, behind her, come a handful of mini-brontosauruses out of the water. The effect is a bit frightening, but I remind myself that brontosauruses are herbivores.
4 jan 2009
Gollum in the house
We are in a house, but I don’t know the house, and it seems to have sandy elements on the floor as well as areas that are open to the outside. There is a man/creature in our house. He is a bit like Gollum. He moves very erratically and twisted, and he makes me nervous because I think he might pinch or hit me, or mess things up in the house. He has kind of a reckless thing about him. I keep him in the corner of my eye and feel like I would like to get rid of him, but he belongs to me, to us, somehow. In the corner, suddenly, he is standing and shaking and shit is running down his leg in a mass, and he is relieved and kid of skips off. It is like it doesn’t stick to him. He can leave it in the corner where he was. I go to clan up the clothes and shit and am also relieved because he might be calmer after getting rid of this load.
17 jan 2009
Another airplane dream.
The plane will be leaving at 4:30 pm. I am trying to get things together on time. I can’t find things, or things I had (purse/tickets) seem to disappear again. I somehow get lucky because they keep giving me a chance to get on the airplane. Even when it is taxiing toward the runway, they say I have 10 more minutes to get on.
22 jan 2009
Baby on the leg
I am moving through a car park/garage, pushing a rather flat small dark blue buggy. There is a baby in it. Marc and Emilie come by. They are going to the same conference/outdoor event as me, but they are in their car. I’m able to give Marc some change that he needs, and it makes me feel good to be able to give to him. When I get to the event, it is on the side of a steep hill. I am maneuvering the buggy up toward the top – rocks, dirt, tufts of grass. There is a rock wall, and behind it one can get concessions. I carefully park the buggy in this precarious situation. I take the little (but chubby and heavy) baby out. She is sleeping, sleeping in the crook of my crossed leg. I ask some guy going by to buy me a muffin for her, as I think she will be hungry when she wakes up. I have the correct change for the muffin…
Moving (Singing)
At the beginning of November I attended a Voice and Movement workshop given by a friend of mine in Arnhem, Monica Coronado. Besides many games where we passed sound back and forth and around, the most memorable thing was making a sound and movement ‘machine’. One person would start in the middle with a movement and sound (machine-like), others would join, one by one, adding their movement and sound. Great fun to watch and great fun to do! This served as more inspiration for my document where I store ideas for work with groups combining meditation, voice and movement (see document Voice and Movement Exploratory Games).
I would like to type up here two experiences having to do with my Dutch ‘Oma’ (95 years old, and experiencing many years of dementia) who left this life at the end of January. One is a listening walk, where thoughts of her came up at the end. The other is the last visit we made to her before her death a week or so later. Although both are not perhaps representative of what I am doing with moving, they both are quite important moments of moving, singing, feeling, contact with my environment and the world around me.
17 dec 2008
I am walking back from dropping Joshua and Aidan off at school. I’m not where I am, trying to enjoy the forest, trying to see the trees, let the trees in, be in the moment with the gravel path and the bare trees. I walk slower. Three things that I need to do shoot through my mind… make copies of articles for lecture… oops! shit! pay the bill from the party Saturday night… find my gloves… where can my gloves be?? ok. I’ve listed the things, now I can be with the trees. I slow my walk even more. Ah, that’s better. I see the black branches against the pale white, blue, gray sky. So many things that I don’t see.
I breathe to the aching place under my heart, under my ribs. A place of deep desire and longing. I am confused by the pain. What is it? I am also a bit frightened to come in contact with this longing. I shut my eyes and take slow steps. The path becomes alive under my feet. Crunchy and wobbly. My ears become alive, picking up the warbling cries of birds, the humming of cars tracing an auditory line-trajectory through the space. I orient myself more three-dimensionally. Someone comes by with dog(s). I resist the urge to open my eyes. One dog is barking and growling. Another sniffs around my ankles but is quickly called away by the boss. I walk with my eyes shut, feeling when I run off the path and giving a quick visual check. Later I walk with eyes half open. The cold is seeping too deeply into my body, so I jump to warm up. I feel how the energy stops around my knees, which feel older than they are. Finally the energy sinks, grounding me. I see Nicole quickly walking home and again I am filled with my idea of starting an evening group. I walk toward home and feel how much information the world around me gives, as well as how much I shut out in my linear, mind-driven trajectory. Very car-like indeed. Stay on the road. Go from A to B while remaining in your bubble, sealed against your outside environment.
My attention is caught by water drops on the twigs of a bare tree. They are shining, glittering, swelling with gravitational pull, kinetic potential. I approach the tree slowly and lick one – shock of musty water taste, taste of winter tree, mossy, woody and slightly acid. I lick more drops and surprise myself with the delicate blossoms opening on my tongue. Certainly not sterile, bursting with life, I feel my Indian woman soul, close by me.
At home, I fix myself breakfast and end up thinking of Oma-ma, on the possibility of bringing her here, to live, to die. I am sure it will not happen, but the thought of the beauty of it makes me cry. Why can we not take care of our elderly? Does it really require such professional help? Then I think of feeding and teeth problems and diapers and bathing and sleepless nights and doubt that I would be up to the task. I ask for strength and love. My heart aches again, this pungent mixture of pain and love. Or is it just a swelling, a stretching, a-live?
21 jan 2009
We visit Joy in Zeist. When I go in her room, it is quiet, a peaceful stillness. I take my time - she is "asleep" in her bed, head raised, pink nightshirt on. I look at pictures. Two of her with Hanneke (her daughter) touch me particularly. Not only their resemblance to each other, but also the way Hanneke has her arm around her mother's shoulders. More beautiful pictures of grandchildren...
I turn toward Oma-ma and tell her I am there. I tell her who I am and take her hand, fine hands, warm/cool to the touch. She hardly reacts, head turned upward, mouth wide open to facilitate her labored breathing. I thank her for the love and care she gave her children which is still being passed down to our children. I feel her spirit, attached ever so lightly, so delicately, so fine-wired to her body. I feel her youthful spirit, playful and dancing. I tell her I would like to sing to her. I place my hand on her heart and begin singing softly, aware of her spirit-presence. I massage her shoulders, hands and arms gently. Her neck and upper back are very tight. She makes soft groaning noises. I know how she enjoyed physical contact and so believe she does not find my gentle touch too intrusive. I touch her temples, very low energy in her head area, which somewhat shocks me. Her skin is thin and drawn. I move my hands over her hair and cheeks, still singing. Again over her arms. I feel her torso, give gentle rubs. Her belly is gurgling. Her heart and body warm. I tell her she is welcome any time to come by me.
Slowly I say goodbye, pulling her blankets up a little under her hands. I hear my children fighting over toys in the other room. I would like to be with her when her spirit releases its hold on her body. I stay to watch and hear the long pauses between breaths, the sudden shock of her breathing reflex. It feels somehow very beautiful, that releasing of the spirit. I am grateful to her and give one last look as I go out the door.
27 jan 2009
I stand, doing a Chi scan (from the Book, The CHI Revolution by Bruce Frantzis) – come to my chest, ribs. There is a place around my diaphragm that feels like a rubber sheet with a hole in it. Suddenly I let go of the tension around the hole. Breathing drops, in fact, everything “drops”. I feel as if I am falling, sinking, collapsing… There is the urge to stop it, pull up, tighten up, maintain the status quo. Instead, I breathe deeply, openly, loosely and feel intense pain in the muscles connecting my breast and neck. OW, OW, OW! Pain! and a warmth arising from the reaction. Warmth that makes me feel feverish, want to stop breathing deeply. I tell myself: warmth is good, warmth is energy, warmth is a stream of life…
Listening
Calming the mind and coming out of a language-based thinking into a sound-based thinking, alive in the moment, has been one of my focal points. Because I edit and love to write and am preparing this lecture, I often have many ‘conversations’ going on in my mind. However, I find myself often trying to build up or defend an argument. Defending myself has become a habit from growing up in a strict religious environment where I felt I was unable to defend myself against very strong verbal arguments by those around me… And defending yourself or explaining yourself all the time becomes tiresome.
The meditation that has remained with me from the retreat was that of taking any word that comes up and stretching it out, so that it becomes sound material. Practicing this the past three months has helped me to create a space and calm the ‘monkey mind’. Creating this space has become a mantra.
17 dec 2008
As I am recording, I notice a magical moment. I become silent, the sounding moment is over, and slowly the environmental sounds/stillness begin to penetrate me. A moment of complete letting go. Satiated. Sensual.
15 jan 2009
This morning I put on the CD of PO and Miya Masaoka. I sit and try to listen. Try to make space. Monkey mind comes up. Structuring this lecture in my head, formulating a letter to Pauline. Finally carving out space. Space to be open, space to listen, space for myself. Space to breathe. Finally I can listen a bit – images of Pauline and Miya come up – a sense of their triggers and kinetic dialogue – sound vocabulary – a whisper of the technologies used.
16 jan 2009
I sit – facing south – in front of candles
Image of red phoenix comes to me – moving arms slowly up and down – breathing in and out
Energy in lower – middle – upper dan t’ien, moving and bringing it up and down
Trying to end with space for myself – space to listen - space
27 jan 2009
wrestling, wrestling with my monkey mind
you are not the sum of your thoughts
you are not the sum of your words
you are not the sum of your products
you are not the sum of your actions
Deep Listening and parallel Training in Core-Energetics
In Core-Energetics, we have been working on discovering images from our youth that block us because they do not allow us to see our reality now. Also working through many exercises dealing with early childhood attachments. A wonderful session on my birthday(!!) where I received the gift of a blessing from my ‘father’ (one of the trainers), allowing me to sing my love for the world. I am becoming less ashamed of singing for people, letting my voice flow more freely from my heart. It feels like a great gift! Joy!
Deep Listening and Teaching Practices
With one of my adult piano students who only improvises, I noticed that he was full of tension and seemed to be a bit out of touch with his body (it was in the evening, and he has three children…) I asked him to try a improvisation in which the left hand is connected to the beat of the heart and the right hand plays a melody with every out-breath, thus with pausing for the in-breath, like a singer would need to do. First feeling the heartbeat, then ‘playing’ that on the piano and then putting the right hand with it. It was quite a ‘complicated’ assignment in a way, but he was a good sport, and it definitely put him into close contact with his body while playing.
With my little students, they are discovering tonalities through improvisation, and have the opportunity to create their own scales, rhythms, counter rhythms…
Deep Listening and Creative Projects
I have been coming to face the big BEAR of needing to look for funding, for subsidies. I just can’t fund my ideas myself anymore. There is money out there. I just need to start looking and asking.
The Spider Video has been put on the shelf because my singing partner was two months in Cuba. Also, I think I need someone to help with the editing (and thus… need funding).
Also, after a discussion back and forth with Charlotte about an idea for the DLRetreat, I got the idea for The Sounding Hut (see the document: The Sounding Hut). I want to build this ‘thing’, but need to get money. I’ve sent the idea, along with ideas for Listening Walks, to a nearby Nature Center who were looking for more ideas for art. So, we will see. Anyway, I hope to start building it for this workshop building instruments with my piano students in April.
So, my ‘job’ is to start crystallizing my ideas, creating material to ‘sell’ these ideas and digging for funds. I don’t like doing this. I don’t like telling people why I want to do things.
Hope and a bit of a smile came from an interview with Esther Rots, Dutch filmmaker (Kan Door Huid Heen) who stubbornly does everything herself.
Roughly quoted:
interviewer Ronald Rovers: Thus, when you finally saw your film – and everything you did makes sense, is ‘right’ – you came to the conclusion that you should not listen to others?
ER: yeah, but that’s what I think anyway. People who are being creatively busy should stay as far away as possible from other people’s opinions. I listened to only a handful of people, one of them being the composer Dan Geesin.
It is very difficult for me to explain why I want to do something. If I wake up one morning and want to make a purple cow, and someone else is producing it, then I need to explain to the producer why I want to make a purple cow. Logical. But annoying. Because then I need to think about it. And before you know it, you have lost the magic. That is why I most like to produce myself.