One very
worthwhile activity for men in greater Boston (and a bit beyond) has been a
drumming and poetry circle, held about every six weeks. I was talking about
this to a friend, who said "I'm not much into drumming." Case closed,
or so I thought.
But on second
thought, I began to wonder if there were some misconceptions. So let me make
some things a bit clearer, just in case.
First, there's
nothing fancy or intricate about the drumming. Some guys have taken lessons and
are pretty good (or even excellent) at laying down rhythms and embellishing
them. But anyone can play. Nobody's keeping track of who's keeping the beat or
whether an individual's drumming sounds "pretty." The overall effect is
a weaving of rhythms, usually in time with our heartbeats, that brings us into
a place of fellowship and out of the ordinary world.
Second, the
drumming isn't particularly noisy. I don't think most men would find it
excessively loud. For one thing, we're all listening to each other; playing too
loud would drown out the overall sound.
Third (and this
applies to both drumming and poetry), we practice "radical choice."
This means that drumming and poetry participation is strictly optional. You can
sit and listen, meditate, wander outdoors, read a book. That's the
"choice" part. The "radical" part is that no one will ever
think badly of you or hassle you to join in. Your mere presence in a group of
men is enough for everyone.
Fourth, the
poetry we share may be stuff we've written or stuff from published sources.
This is not a poetry contest, and there are no prizes for literary quality or
dramatic reading ability! When something comes from the heart, no matter how
it's worded and no matter how it's delivered, you'll see men nodding or even
hear them grunting in recognition and appreciation. If you choose to share a
poem, whatever its source may be, you may be speaking for some or even all of
the men in the room - and beyond.
Our drumming
and poetry circles could be called "Hang out with the men" circles.
Drumming and poetry are just something we do when we're hanging out.
We usually
start out by purifying the space with sage incense and/or a bell. We go around
the circle to give men a chance to invite other men, usually ancestors, to join
the group. We drum. We read. We drum. We read. A poem will sometimes remind a
man of another poem, and he'll go leafing through his notebook to find it. We
often end by saying good-bye to the spirits we have invited to join us and then
breaking the circle. Sometimes we have a pot-luck dinner afterwards.
I've been a
"self-actualization" book junkie for at least three decades. The
category, for me, was very broad, including stuff like Robert Ringer's "Looking
Out for Number One," Robert Townsend's "Up the Organization,"
the Castaneda books ("Teachings of Don Juan," "Separate
Reality," "Journey to Ixtlan," etc.), religious books, books of
sayings, and so on.
I would read a
book and then become a royal pain in the ass to my family for the next six
months as I tried to put its ideas into practice, or simply spout off its ideas
at the dinner table.
Can you become
a better person by reading a book? It's an interesting question. The authors of
many of the books had been transformed by some life experience and were trying
to pass on the wisdom they had gained. But how do you transform yourself
vicariously? As sincere as many of the books were, there was a bit of perhaps
unintended cynicism involved. "I found out the hard way. Read my book to
discover the easy way." We know in our gut that sometimes the hard way is
best.
Over the years,
I discovered some common threads woven through most of the books. Many of them
didn't come right out and say so, but here's what I gleaned from them:
You get what
you give, but not always in the same form you gave it and often with a long
time interval. This includes both good and bad.
Attitude
counts. Your motivation for doing something may be more important than what you
do.
Things are not
always what they seem.
Your past is
not your destiny.
Happiness is
elusive as a direct goal; contentment is possible by being able to sort out
your wants from your needs.
There is a
realm beyond ordinary existence.
Here are the very
mixed and partial contents of my literary medicine bag. I won't give publishing
details or authors; most of them are still in print and you can find them -
along with reviews - at Amazon.com.
Winning Through Intimidation
Looking Out for Number One
Up the Organization
Life 101
The Little Book of the Human Shadow
Most of the Castandeda books
Lord of the Rings trilogy
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (and
sequels)
Iron John
Men and the Water of Life
The Monk and the Philosopher
The Essential Rumi
Night and Sleep
The Kabir Book
Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart
The Four Agreements
The Relaxation Response
The Elements of Style
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
Are Your Lights On?
There are many
more; the point of this exercise (and I recommend it to you) is to remind
myself of two things: (1) I've learned a lot from reading; (2) there are just a
few simple themes in all of what I've read. Also, given the way I read and
re-read some of these books, I'd add a third: (3) I'm a slow learner.
What are your
favorite books? How have they changed your life, if at all? What kind of
trouble did they get you into? Is there a book you need to re-visit? How
different is it on second or third reading?
Athletes put on
"game faces" and use visualization techniques to improve performance.
I always thought it was a technique they used to psych themselves up and to
intimidate the other team with a fierce scowl. Maybe there's a bit more to it.
An article in a
recent New Yorker magazine tells about a couple of guys who were doing research
on facial expressions. Their original purpose was to catalog all the possible
facial expressions and their meanings. They wanted to see, among other things,
whether the meainings of facial expressions were universal across cultures
(they are). Their technique included viewing endless hours of film and
videotape, and also making faces at each other. This latter technique wasn't so
random as it sounds: they cataloged the muscle groups in the face and made
their faces based on combinations of particular muscle contractions. When they
couldn't make a particular contraction (genetically, not everyone can raise one
eyebrow, for instance), they visited a phyisiology lab and had the muscle
twitched with an electrode.
One day, after
making sad and anguished faces at each other, the two researchers discovered
that they felt like shit. Further investigation indicted that facial
expressions are not only the mirrors of mood, they could cause moods in the
first place. For example, two groups of people looked at cartoons. One group
held a pencil between their lips, which prevented them from smiling. The other
group held a pencil between their teeth, which forced a smile. The pencil-in-teeth
group rated the same set of cartoons funnier.
Remember when
Mom said, "Don't make that ugly face at me - it'll freeze that way."
She may have been right! Make the awful face - feel shitty - keep making the
face - feel shittier. Until the whole thing becomes a habit.
So, I've been
trying to smile more, even when I don't "feel" like it.
There are other
faces to make, too, that might be helpful in getting through life - or the day.
For example, think of a time when you were enveloped in total contentment.
Maybe it was after a meal, or after playing with your kids, or at the end of a
long run, or love-making, or...well, you get the idea. What kind of face were
you "wearing"? Can you make that face now, especially when you're
remembering that happy time? Can you make that face when someone has just cut
you off in traffic, or when your boss has left your office after a
dressing-down? Would it work? I don't know, but I think it's worth a try. I
think I now understand the athlete's "game face."
Copyright
notice
All original
materials are (c) Copyright 2002 by Tim Baehr. All rights reserved. All signed
materials are copyright by their respective authors.
Warranty
I am not
responsible for the contents of Web sites I list or recommend.
Personal
correspondence:
Tim Baehr
tbaehr@aol.com