Yesterday marked the first day of Floralia, the Ancient Roman festival that honored the goddess Flora, who is — you guessed it — associated with flowers, as well as cycles of life and death, fertility, sex workers, and the working class. I’ve been learning about this festival as part of my flower essence practitioner training and was struck by the fact that, according to Ovid in his poem Fasti, Flora required that “No business be conducted with a garlanded brow.” Which is to say: No work; all play for Flora’s days.
Ancient Romans believed the harvest depended on Flora’s blessings; honoring her through rest and play was necessary for life to sprout. Floralia shares a lot of associations and timeframes with the Celtic fertility festival of Beltane, which was Anglicized as May Day. There are also echoes of Flora in today’s modern-day associations with May 1st as a labor holiday. (Stay tuned to Hadean Press for Devin Antheus’ forthcoming book about all things Flora.)
Yesterday also marked one year since my first day of freedom after leaving my government job of 9+ years. I had read Tricia Hersey’s Rest is Resistance manifesto a few months before and with Beltane on the horizon, I started thinking about the fertility that can emerge from rest. In my new home upstate, I heard the songs of the spring peepers, singing out after they emerged from their winter naps in the mud, and wanted to be able to sing like them — so loudly, so joyfully, with clear intent. Moving had been a helpful shift, but as things became more untenable at work, I was getting migraines nearly daily again, and my body was crying out for me to listen to its need for more rest. I didn’t expect to still be in such a liminal space a year later — I had a plan, but it turned out that a plan wasn’t what I needed. What I needed was rest and some time wading through the murky but fecund underworld of change.
It was also a year ago yesterday that I went back to the city to take part in an immersive, collaborative, tarot-devised Beltane performance conceived by Merkel. My role was, fittingly, to invite people to lay down and rest, to explore dreams of fertility in rest with me. We got rained out and the performance was rescheduled, but I was able to reunite with two dear friends who happened to be visiting New York at the same time. I had a blast celebrating my newfound freedom with these old friends, but by this time I got back home, I was exhausted, sick, and couldn’t fathom returning to the city again so soon. My contribution to the show transformed into an audio piece about fertility in rest so that I could *actually* rest and practice what I had intended to preach. You can listen to the backing music for my audio piece here. If you’ve ever wanted to hear me do my best vocal imitation of a spring peeper, this is your chance!
At many times over the last year, I’ve felt completely lost and unmoored; in a free fall of uncertainty. I’ve felt stuck in the bog, unable to move. There have been starts — a workshop series here, a speaking engagement there, a handful of half-hearted job applications, but it’s only in the last couple of months that I’ve had the energy and clarity to turn my focus to what it is that I want to see bloom; that I’ve felt able to move in new ways. More to come on that soon …
For the last couple of months I’ve been working part-time at a microgreen farm. In order to urge the our little green friends to grow strong, we reduce light and add weight to the sprouts immediately after planting the seeds. This, combined with rich soil, helps the plants develop strong roots and send all their energy into growing as best they can in spite of the oppressive conditions. The person in charge of the operation calls this process “suffering.” I prefer to think of it as cultivating resilience.
This is what we do in Dark Moon Listening. We dedicate time to listening, to resting, to connecting, and to honoring our need to be in the dark so that new growth can emerge. We practice together to cultivate resilience. The next Dark Moon Listening group will take place this coming Sunday, May 5th, from 7:30 - 9:30 pm EST. Click here for more info and to sign up. The following session will be on Wednesday, June 5th, and I’ll be announcing more dates in June.
Yesterday also marks the five-year anniversary of the performance of XOIR’s XRONOLOGY at the 24-Hour DRONE festival at Basilica Hudson. This was a collaborative piece that I conceived and brought to life in collaboration with 15 other vocalists as part of an experimental vocal group. The piece was a vocalized history of the land where Basilica Hudson stands, exploring the fluctuations in land use and populations from the Ice Age to the present. It was a huge moment for me in terms of both getting to experience a creative vision coming to life and collaborating with others. We sang at sunrise, just as the light was beginning to emerge and the birds were starting their dawn chorus.
It feels like something is coming full circle as I share that I’ll be guiding a dream activation at this year’s 24-Hour DRONE festival at Basilica Hudson. There’s No Place Like DRONE is an invitation to attendees to dream in community and to share what emerges in a living map of our collective dream over the course of the 24 hours. Tanya Himeji Romero of Woodland Pantry and I will be creating dream-supporting things for you to imbibe and deepen your dreaming experience. Tanya and I met at last year’s DRONE when she was providing the most delicious nourishments, and connected over our shared passion for plants. I’m so excited about what we’re brewing up together this year.
Honestly, I’m not a big on big crowds or festivals, but DRONE is the exception, if you couldn’t tell from the name of my project this year. This will actually be my third year being involved with DRONE. Last year I had the honor of helping Lisa B. Kelly close out the festival with Pauline Oliveros’ “The Heart Chant.” We managed to get every person in the building to stand hand-to-heart in a connected circle and make sound together. This is one of my favorite of Pauline’s sonic meditations because it includes the questions: “Can you imagine that the heart energies are joining together for healing yourself and others? Can you imagine heart energies traveling out into the universe as a healing for all victims and toward the end of violence?”
These questions underscore what it is that I ultimately find so compelling about working in groups with sound — the possibility that resonating with other beings can be a force for personal and collective change. I’ve been filled with hope as we witness the students at universities across the world calling for divestment. I was struck in particular by this video of a student at Emory University singing a protest song as they were carried away from the encampment. The songs we sing in response to times of darkness, the songs we sing to create liberation, echo in ways that we may not even be able to dream of in the moment. It’s so beautiful to witness this movement blooming during the time of year traditionally associated with the world waking up from winter, with hopes for a fertile future.
Other Upcoming Events
Sound Sangha
One of my Deep Listening® teachers, Michael Reiley, hosts a weekly virtual sonic mindfulness group called Sound Sangha that explores the intersection of meditation, sound, listening, awareness, and attention. I started attending Sound Sangha about two years ago while I was recovering from surgery. This sweet and thought-provoking community has become something I look forward to every Friday — to the extent that I now make my coworkers at the sprout farm tune in with me in the greenhouse.
I’ve had the honor of leading the group a number of times in Michael’s absence and will be slipping out of the greenhouse to do so again on Friday, May 17th at 12 pm EST. Learn more about Sound Sangha and sign up here to receive the Zoom link.
Hudson Valley Deep Listening® Practice Group
I love online workshops because they’re more accessible, but I’ve also been having the urge to do more sounding in person. It’s a very different experience to practice, for example, “The Heart Chant,” in person and to actually feel the vibration of another person through your hand while they’re vocalizing, than it is to do it on Zoom, where you might be connecting with someone on another continent. One isn’t better than the other, but they are different.
Earlier this month my friend and fellow Deep Listening® facilitator, Evan Zierk, and I got a small group together at Kingston Point Park to explore some sonic meditations in community. We’re hoping to do this about monthly and our goal is for it to be less of a formal workshop setting and more collaboratively led, using Deep Listening® as inspiration but also exploring our own ideas for listening, sound, movement, and dreams. If you’re in the Hudson Valley and want to join us in the future, drop me an email!
On My Radar
An important part of listening for me is the way that it can help us to connect with the non-human kin. Plants, animals, rocks, stars, clouds … there are so many things to listen to and ways to listen to them. Pilipinx composer, percussionist, and sound artist Susie Ibarra wrote a book called Rhythms in Nature that details her highly developed approach. It contains not only the technical details of her processes, but also beautiful photographs of her subjects and the work she does in the field. A good one for the heads!
Deep Listening: The Story of Pauline Oliveros is screening at MoMA in NYC on May 7th as part of the exhibition Womens Work. [R.I.P., my similarly named podcast, Woman’s Work, 2016-17!) There will be a Q&A afterwards with director Daniel Weintraub and IONE, the artist responsible for developing the dreaming component of Deep Listening®, and Pauline’s wife. The event is free but requires an RSVP.
MoMA will also be hosting a free virtual Deep Listening® workshop led by IONE and Lisa B. Kelley a couple weeks later on May 20th. Also free, and also requires an RSVP.
With ears open,
Grace