A Cello & and Her Student

As many of you know. Way back when, many years ago, I took up cello lessons.

For those who have not picked up an instrument. I highly encourage you to do so. At least, at the end of reading this article. I hope you decide to take one up, that calls you the most.

There was no particular reason why I chose the cello.

In fact, I think I visited the music school. And it just so happened that they had a cello available. How do you ask? Well turns out, some mystery person donated it to the school.

For those who couldn’t afford their own cello. They just dropped it off one day. They didn’t even know who donated it.

I thought that was such a beautiful gesture of kindness. For someone to give a gift like that.

And I was part of that gift.

I picked her up and she was mine. Temporary, of course.

Beautiful instrument. Curvaceous, fine wood, strong, steady strings, gentle yet firm, and a weightless bow.

I practiced a lot. And I enjoyed it. It was time with her and my time with self. One day, I was practicing in my room and I was curious to know what name I could call her. I had been asking for a while for a name but couldn’t get one. Almost to the point of being frustrated about it. So, I decided to ask her, what her name was. And I did, I asked, what is your name? What should I call you?

I had to get up to do something, so I placed her off the ground and on my bed. When I came back to the room, because of the angle I was standing and where she was placed, I saw a carving under her bridge. It read, ‘Carmen.’ I kid you not, that was her name. So I called her, Carmen. And I thanked her for telling me her name.

My first teacher was so easy going. I loved him, Andrew I believe his name was. I told him, I couldn’t read the sheets. That was tough for me to say. In band class, in Elementary school, I had someone mimic the notes for me for my trumpet.

She would show me on her trumpet, and then I would follow.

You see, I didn’t learn music through sheets.

You don’t just learn ONE WAY.

You can learn a lot of ways.

And I learned through sound and FEEL.

So he taught me through the Suzuki method.

Look that up if it interest you.

I was always spot on in my tempo.

And yes, eventually, I learned how to read the sheets.

It was actually quite easy. I built muscle memory. What is that? It means when your body is not used to a certain pose. But you shape it out first, it may feel awkward. The reach and angle. But when you practice more, and do it again, it becomes familiar. Not only that, I learned to hold my bow — Firm yet softly. At that time, this bothered me. What do you mean firm yet soft? How am I supposed to act that out?!

But I got it, I knew exactly what he meant. And, it worked!

He basically taught me to pick any piece I liked.

Any piece! And we would work ‘backwards.’

I would learn the notes that belonged to that piece.

Kind of like life, your life is already complete, themes set in place. You just have to listen to your notes, your ‘calling’ on how to collapse that reality into your ‘beingness.’ But I digress. And so, that is what we did. I also played with other cellists. Because as you know, cellos enjoy the company of others. They can play solo, but when you have others to play with, it makes it that much more fun. A different kind of experience. That is for sure.

Anyway, he and his wife had a child and he couldn’t make it to the school anymore. So I had another teacher.

Bo Peng. This man is so gifted! And so spot on!

He taught me the technical along with the artistic.

He also invited me to the Vancouver Art Gallery where he performed as a trio. It was beautiful. We sat in this wooden room, that was sculpted. And only a few limited seats were available. He saved me a seat up front. And I could literally feel and hear the vibrations ring every ounce in my body.

To the point, where when we stepped outside, everything felt so surreal. Like more vivid, more aware, more awake. Pure bliss.

You see, what you may not know is the cello goes into the low base octaves. A lower frequency — deep. When I played her, she would vibrate chords within me. I would lean her against my heart and my shoulder. She would hum there. That is where we connected. Some of the chords were low, what some might call — sad. And so, I actually felt a bit sad while playing her. Not because she made me sad. But because she played a song, that only I could hear, she spoke to me and me only. She called upon my sadness and said, it was okay to be sad. She brought it up to the surface. And I cried. Quite a bit. As I was exploring different themes at that time. Loneliness. Sadness. Frustration.

She never judged me. Carmen. In fact, we did it together. She was with me through it all. I would be alone with her playing. And she would take me places within myself. And once I experienced it. Expressed it through music. Through her as my channel, my vehicle, I released it. It was gone. It was as by calling it out to the surface. And acknowledging it.

Saying hey, you’re going to be alright. You’re not alone.

It left. Just like that. Carmen didn’t speak through words, we didn’t need a dialogue. We spoke heart to heart.

For those of you familiar with Music or Art therapy. This was it for me at that time. Many, many years ago.

And when I had a critical voice. A voice that said this didn’t sound the way I wanted it to in my head. She said, ‘It’s okay. You just started. Keep practicing.’ And when I practiced, I got better. And when I got better, it was as if we triumphed together. And played these fiddle upbeat tunes, that we commanded — confidently. We owned it. And having a teacher that is on you, to help you get better, and Guide you. With a really good teacher like that, you make leaps and bounds! Like a found secret passage way that lead to a shortcut. You didn’t have to struggle or have years of pain and stories of battles. You had an easy way out. Unless you’re addicted to stories like that, which I was not. Ever. So, I found a way that was pleasant and supportive and fun. Even enjoyable.

It was not like I carried these emotions with me like a baggage as some say. That was not the case. She only measured what was in that moment for me. Or she rung a tune, that called it out. And shines a light on it. This is why at times, I felt tired, even exhausted, as things were being released.

But I also felt light after, like a feather.

Like a tuning fork, she called out my emotions.

Brought them to the surface. And we released them together.

Then came a point. Where I no longer resonated with that lower bass tone. Our time was up. She had taught me what I needed to know at that time, to evolve to the new version of myself. She shed the old, to bring in the new. I wanted to play with a new instrument now. She did what she came here to do. And now, I wanted more upbeat music.

More high pitched, high frequency.

Not because she was low. No not at all.

Every note is neutral, you see. There was no bad or good note. Sad wasn’t better than happy. Each note brought out more depth in your Act or Play. Each has its own place with the meaning you give it. I am sure if I now played the cello, it would be a completely different experience.

But this is what music does. It transforms.

Like a massage therapist who finds hurt in people’s body or pain. Like a healer who sifts through dialogue, or memories, or touch. Or colors. Or sounds. And so forth.

And then releases it. The same goes with music.

It helps you find it, to release it. Sometimes even call it the surface and call it the scoundrel that it is. The critical voice, for example. Being that, that it has no place here. That it was never yours to begin with. That it was time for it to go. To neutralize it and send it love. That the expression has been made and acknowledged.

So, sometimes that happens with relationships.

You meet different people that strike different chords in you. Music. You create different kinds of music based on the people you co-create with. And sometimes they stay for a line. Or a chapter. Or the whole series.

And sometimes they go as quickly as they came.

The one constant though in your story, is you.

Know what music you want to play.

And know, who you want to play it with and when you want to try a new piece. Because you are ready to express another

song with another person. There is no right or wrong way about this. There are only different notes.

And utter freedom.

This is why I say, Carmen taught me more and still does, through her teaching than some humans I have known in a lifetime.

A patient teacher, who speaks through sound, touch and vibration.

I took care of her, I tuned her, I cleaned her strings. But it was more her tuning me into more of myself. And aligning my notes together.

And I know, she was sent back to the school when my time was up with her.

And I know, she is working her magic through and with another.

Because someone, decided to donate a cello to a school.

Xo,

Pam

PS — When I get my new instrument (I haven’t decided yet) it may be something along the lines of a French Horn ;)

Loud, proud, bold, and utterly unapologetic. And yes, I will get another cello which I will carve under her bridge — Carmen.