The Breath
A Buddhist temple gong rang out at 6 am, and I had a cup of warm water before we walked outside through the crisp dew and then silently to the meditation room in another part of the converted barn. It had very comfortable proportions and closely spaced wooden beams. Our circle of meditation cushions was arranged in the centre of the room. I had not had much prior experience of retreats or meditation, and this weekend was very special for me. I chose a cushion directly opposite David and slipped into the silence easily, finding this circle very agreeable. We had a long silent meditation, and it was only after breakfast that David gave an introduction and we started with the breath.
(Audio : David Hykes, Unity Meditation One, Harmonic Meditations)
Before our lunch break, I was already able to hear the harmonics in his out-breath, the long deep exhales. Later, listening to the CD Solar Winds,which the Harmonic Choir had recorded in a Cistercian abbey in France some twenty years earlier, I heard these harmonics very clearly. The rest of the day passed in intense breath and toning work. I was totally amazed at the creation of sounds which arose spontaneously from each of us to merge and create a structure in the centre of our circle, layered with harmonics and beautiful resolutions out of dissonance and random outbreaths. I had not known what to expect. But already the experience was beyond whatever I had hoped for. I was intensely aware of how my entire body seemed to be resonating in response to the deep sonic vibrations I was emitting from the resonance chamber within my own body. I had spent a quiet half hour alone before leaving the room, lying down and breathing gently. And suddenly, I heard them! – the harmonics from our co-creative session were still present in the silence, circulating in the room several hours later.
At the end of this first amazing day, we were all relaxing in the living space while the evening meal was in preparation. Various instruments were being picked up and played unselfconsciously, comfortably. I had a strong urge to sit at the piano and asked David’s permission. He looked a bit surprised; the piano was tuned differently for his specific needs, he said. ‘I don’t think you will be able to play it.’ This was the first notion I had about different piano tunings, their relationship to consciousness and the worlds this opened up.[1] Well, undaunted, I just sat down quietly at the piano, feeling the warmth from the fire on my back.
And then the atmosphere, the communion of the day, the extraordinary energy which had been created and shared by this group of like-minded and heart-connected people, took over and I felt the keys under my fingers. I had no real sense of how or if the piano sounded ‘different’ as a result of its tuning. It just responded under my fingers and allowed the music through. I imagine it was different and influenced by what I had been through during the past twenty four hours. My heart felt full, my eyes were closed, and I felt the music coming through me and resonating in this old farmhouse. I have no idea how long I was in this state, but when I finally opened my eyes and looked around me, it was silent and there were several glowing faces with shiny eyes looking at me with such love and recognition I almost choked! I had been transported. The music had clearly come through and collected us all up. David was quietly observing this from his kitchen area. He said nothing that evening, but I was staying on for the night when the group left the next day after lunch. We would have our discussion then.
The Sunday morning session was again glorious, with the energy of the group peaking and reaching celestial harmonies. I was among my soul family, I felt sure, and wondered how I would be able to say ‘au revoir’ when the time came. And it did come, and they did leave and then David and I sat at the table and talked. And our discussion continued the next morning at breakfast in the village while we waited for my train.
He agreed to be my teacher and gave me a long list of reading materials. We would communicate online through Skype when I returned to Cape Town, which was scheduled for the following month. I was to record my music on the piano. It was clear that I had no idea what was coming through, and I needed to get a sense of this. A simple Sony Discman recorder would suffice; I was simply to turn it on and play.
That was it. I left Pommereau and floated back to Thonon through the mists and countryside hearing beautiful harmonics in the sound of the train on the tracks.
[1] Piano tunings and the relationship to consciousness!