One of our oldest and dearest friends, who goes by the name Rinchen, is a devout Buddhist currently two thirds of the way through a three-year hitch in a monastery in the Santa Cruz mountains, where he is studying with the teacher he’s chosen for life, and practicing almost total silence. Rinchen has no access to the outside world — no phone calls, no newspapers, no internet, no television… and no music. The latter fact is particularly striking, as Rinchen is one of the deepest listeners we know – a man who could spend an entire day tapped into an 8-disc Cecil Taylor free improv set, then put on some Parliament or Missy Elliott and jam the night away. Rinchen’s music collection was breathtaking — before he sold it all to finance his silent expedition.
A few times a year, Rinchen is granted a day or two to visit with family and to write letters to friends. We wrote him a few months ago asking what music runs through a monk’s mind in between the long periods of silence. Today we received the following poem/riff on Cage, Monk, Miles, The Meters and more (with bundled playlist).
"What music means to the life/mind" you asked. Music here defined as "sounds heard" (Cage) "silence is music too!" (Sun Ra) (On Coney Island Mr. Cage and Mr. Ra one holding a Chinese temple bell and the other a gong, at that site together holding a rod (uniting heave and earth)) & I remember liner note to CD of Tibetan Buddhist chanting, a monk explained, "all sound is music & all music is mantra" (mantra literally means to 'protect the mind') "music is the healing force of the universe" (Ayler) which begs the question what is the intention behind the music, any music spontaneousdancemixwrittendownjustlikethat 1. Sing a simple song~sly 2. Sivad~miles 3. Gumbo variations~zappa 4. Chug-a-lug~meters 5. Chop'n'quench~fela 6. Groove is in the heart~delite 7. Slide~missy e 8. They say I'm different~betty davis 9. Bo Diddley~bo diddley 10. Umbababarauma~jorge ben 11. Feelin' good~jessie mae hemphill * * * Monk's mood well you needn't do a thing ruby my dear but listen to the crepescule ugly beauty of insect drone & computer hum mysterioso mix as sun rays trinkle tinkle into brilliant corners off the horizon off minor evidence of a monk's dream epistrophy! bye-ya
… and then he adds …
Aloha Scott, Joshua and Ethan,
I am grateful to be somewhat reconnecting with you all here. Bless Ethan for including me in the on-goings of you. I regret I have not replied to Joshua by letter to his letter sent to me so long ago now… but I have composed many musings in my mind and sent them via etherwaves to the monk-in-silence. I have undertaken silent periods for only brief spurts… a week, two weeks… and each time I realised I could have gone MUCH longer…. I find myself envying babies as they have no words in their minds yet… no thoughts per se, just pure unadulterated awareness. Adult-erated has a new meaning now.
I live with my spectacular husband in the jungles of Molokai in a sweet little shack made of plywood and tin…. where ever are you all now?
Full of love for the present as presented by the love in the past.
Your Michi