Bye Bye Bootcamp:)...

I thought I always wanted my own bell man until mine was right outside my door ringing the 4am wake up gong! The spiritual seekers' boot-camp had officially begun. First day that bell ringing was sorta sweet: a little resonant cymbal resounding throughout the compound on a hillside in pristine Switzerland overlooking Lake Constance. As the days progressed it took on the dominance of a prison bell. Everything was so structured that the sound reminded me I was no longer in charge of my time or my life for that matter, but I had agreed to stay the full ten days and I was gonna do it bell or no bell. The last time I had to follow so many rules I actually was in prison- to perform Shakespeare. I thought about the men and women I encountered then who couldn't leave their lockups if desired. I had chosen this experience and dammit I was determined to enjoy it! So, I chuckled every time the bell rang, kept a smile in my heart, and hunkered down to learn the meditation technique which promised to cleanse my mind.

The living experience was a real trip: 10 days of silence, a strict vegetarian diet (actually the food was surprisingly good, it was just the constant queuing up to get to it that drove me mad and the fact that dinner was only fresh fruit and tea.), and many hours of meditation. No reading, writing, sex, singing, sunbathing, walking outside designated areas around the compound, and no cameras. So no photos of this little slice 'o natural beauty. After being in the concrete jungle of Paris of course the wonderful surroundings brought my creative juices bubbling to the surface. There were new songs and story ideas coming from all directions. You know I can't sleep at 10pm -mandatory lights out- so I'd just be abuzz with free flowing ideas which I couldn't write down. Talk about frustration. Thank God the Vipassana teaching is solid. Otherwise I might have been out the door. Actually we did lose two women before the session ended. No one knows why they left. When the 10 days of 'noble silence' ended I spoke to returning students who had taken the course at other centers. According to their stories, each center is different though the teaching is uniform. I heard the course in Italy is much more laid back. Perhaps I'll take a refresher session there one day?

In all honesty, I understood the reason for many of the regulations. One takes the course to learn a specific meditation practice which requires focus. If there is chatter while being introduced to the methods things might get confusing. There might be a temptation to compare experiences which aren't common when seeking one's own spiritual path. Also, one shouldn't consider the retreat a holiday. Everyone goes there to work seriously. Many people come with life issues to address. Ohhh those life issues can be a real bummer, especially if one is completely out of balance. Understanding all this didn't make the day to day less bizarre. On the contrary, I was intrigued. When I wasn't fully immersed in meditating, minding my own business, it was a mini-study in group psychology . At one point I lost complete track of time, although I thought I was counting. Prison popped into mind once again. Finally, I got a big laugh when the Guru himself referred to our days in the course as "prison-like" during one of his last discussions. Funny.

As I mentioned earlier, the teaching is logical, non-religious, and full of nuggets to enrich one's life. If you are seeking sound, life changing suggestions this could be a course for you. I recommend it for learning about dharma, personal responsibility, and how to clear the mind. As with anything in life, when you are aware of all that is required to complete a task it is easier to adjust your attitude to reach the final goal. I enjoyed myself, learned some valuable techniques, and met a few really cool people. It cost me nothing but a willingness to slow down, tune out the world, and tune in to me for 10 days.

Artists waiting for customers. Well, Richard (l) is an artist. Steve has an alternative existence.

The controvercial pyramid at the Louvre.

I promised to give an account of my last days in Paris. I officially became a street singer the last two weeks I lived in the city. Word came that the project I was anticipating would not happen, so I really had no reason to stay. I had made wonderful musician friends, sung in some cool hot-spots, and planted my joy seeds. As I prepared to leave, I decided to grab my courage and find a spot where I could just let my voice and spirit soar. My stage was across from the Hotel de Ville, a beautiful spot with fountains and local as well as tourist traffic. I would walk there about an hour and a half every evening. I sang for at least 3 hours each night, heading to the Caveau des Oubliettes to jam afterwards. It was time to send a clear message to the Universe that I am dedicated to preparing my voice, body, and soul for the kind of work I've dreamed of doing for so long.

Being outside singing alone, just me and this voice I've been given is pure joy. I have come a long way since the Barcelona Cathedral. The more I focus on what music brings to me, the intense passion I have for delivering messages through song reverberates to bring people to listen. It doesn't matter if they give money or not. At the end of the night money is there. Just the fact that they choose to stop, listen, and often speak to me about my mission is a blessing. Lots of teenagers, other musicians, families with kids (Kids and animals adore me. I have neither. Go figure), street people, you name it, stop for awhile. I can only hope they walk away with a little more joy, a bit more hope to face another day. It's clear that I am letting my light shine in a new way, reaching a whole other audience. The police never bother me either. I had seen them make other street performers stop and I wondered why not me. Then it dawned on me that I am simply singing with no instrument other than my voice: the first instrument.

Peace, Light, & A Ton of Love...

Adorable young jazz fans celebrating an 18th birthday! Guess who is the lucky girl?