Piano

Negative thinking is worthless.It sees that an entity is 
        not something else.
It sees lack.
So What?
.
Oh. Mmmm.
Positive thinking is a way of seeing.
It sees possibilities and options.
It sees all the good and value that there is.
It enables action.

This thought of being in myself seems good to me. I continue with the metta meditation in my ritual space, and, after years of knowing of it, and a year of returning to it, I felt moved to say that for someone else. A benefactor was the suggestion: Gabrielle Roth, whom I have not met, fits. Yes. I can say that and mean it. I am in myself, not being good; I am saying it for myself. Later that day, I hear she is “free”.

“Good” is a good servant, but a bad master. If a servant, I see something as good, myself, rather than holding myself to a Good standard which I cannot attain. Now I will make the word serve me. I did this, ages ago, with Morality. Morality is mine, to choose what I will obey, and I did that so I could express myself female. I chose to believe that that was not wrong, or believe it enough that I could do it. It is often the way with my learnings, that I learn something for a particular situation and then generalise it.

Saturday I queued for the cash machine at St Pancras, and a man asked me why there are pianos here. “To get people talking. Like us, now.” “Cheaper than the Olympics!” Monday I was one minute late for my train, and went to the piano. A man improvised, bluesily. I watched, and he brought his playing to a close, smiled, and gestured I might play. I played Giorni Dispari, as I do not improvise, and he listened. He clapped, and I curtseyed. Two acquaintances had appeared.

He improvised again, a single figure in the bass and short figures in the treble. I wanted to join in, so I did. Some of the topmost notes are not working, and so I went to the bass: he slid up the seat and I joined him.

I remember it as magical, and at the time there was difficulty and judgment- what shall I do now? Is this creative enough? And, I was listening, and responding, in the moment and without words. We move on to other ideas, and he gets up, offering me the keyboard- but I do not see how to develop them, and stop.

-I don’t communicate at the keyboard.
-Oh, you do, you do!
(glowing) -I mean, I do not get a chance to.
-Do you play locally?
-No, only at home.

The lid is screwed down, against vandalism, so I cannot fix the broken notes. It is in a station- does anyone know if it cannot be kept in tune because of the atmosphere? Would a digital piano fare better?

The obvious illustration is a photo, and I could have asked his friend, who had waved his smart phone at us to email me what he had taken- but that would not be the experience, and I have the experience, which my words share with you.