Long ago, in another life, I thought spirituality was something only the old guys
understood – the Chassidim I saw in shul as a kid, with their beards and tzitzis
and black silk capottes. The magic that happened as they sang and danced and
davvened only seemed available to those who devoted their lives to study, those
who lived by the rigid traditions set down by the righteous.
But it seemed like a difficult and austere path, and there were so many
other paths I wanted to explore as well. So I observed most of the holidays
some of the time, learned a little Torah, a little Talmud, and decided
to forego the magic.
And 30 years went by.
Long ago, in that other life, I thought that you could only achieve
transcendence through music by first devoting your life to technical
mastery – that guys like Charlie Parker and Jimi Hendrix and
Bach were the only ones who really understood. But it seemed like
an impossible and all-encompassing path, and there were so many
other paths I wanted to explore as well. So I kept playing my guitar,
a little bit every day, played in a few bands, kept writing songs, and
decided to forego the transcendence.
And 30 years went by.
What I learned from all those other paths that I ended up exploring,
what I discovered in those 30 years, is that spiritual, musical, magical
transcendence is all around us – it permeates life – it is the voice of God
that has always been transmitting. Our challenge is to learn how to quiet the passions and the anxieties and the rationalities that rage within us, so that we can hear that small voice – kol d’mama daka – that small, fine silence that is the name and the substance of the Divine.
There is music waiting to happen, there are miracles surrounding us at all times. We need only get out of our own way and allow our individual talents the opportunity to serve as a conduit for something truly extraordinary. We need merely clear our minds, calm our hearts, and let the music occur.
Azamra.
Steve Klaper, May 2001
