Mary Grigolia – Mary Grigolia

The One Who Sings Through Me….

The Music Director of a congregation where I’ve shared my music and led services is planning a Hymn Sing,

featuring the music of UU composers. She asked me to write something about my music, to share in the program:

“Singing is my spiritual practice, an intentional response to Life. Sometimes the response is silence, listening for what needs to be sung, to recreate harmony. Song-writing is an act of love, a collaboration with the mystery, always yearning to be known.

“All my songs arise in their own way from this conversation with the Deep Self. Sometimes I ask for something specific, like a song that will see me safely through (e.g., “Safe Passage” or the new “Metta,” Loving Kindness song). When I asked for a song for my own memorial service, I heard ‘I Know This Rose.’

“When my discursive analytical mind tries to shape a song, it sounds pedantic. My task is to listen, record what I hear and then translate it into time signatures, keys, tempo, piano arrangement.

“I never know when a song will come through. And my deepest intention is to keep open to the One that sings through me.”

Thanks for asking!

Pup Tent Cocoon

CONFESSIONS OF A RELUCTANT CATERPILLAR

Notes from a pup tent cocoon by Mary Grigolia

I’m not big on camping. I’m a city girl. I like the idea of sleeping under the stars. But it’s the mosquitoes and twigs and pebbles and finding my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night that put me off. Oh, and the raccoons and skunks and ticks and burrs.

So I was surprised when a camping image intruded on my meditation. Or, my resistance to meditation. I had arrived at a meditation group half an hour early. I set up the room. Got water. Still twenty minutes until anyone got there. What should I do? Meditate was the obvious answer. Instead, I sat in my usual place and started to think about all the things on my to do list.

Some inexplicably wise part of my mind/heart/soul said, “Whoa! Do you really want to think about your email now?” And for good measure, threw in an image of tent stakes.

I followed the directions (a first for me) and constructed a little tent.

The metaphor hit home: Each item on my to do list was another stake, for defning and securing my safe little tent. Once in place (i.e., given sufficient attention), I climb right in. Moment and meditation forgotten; I’d be accomplishing something!

Embarrassed, I pulled the stakes, packed up the tent, and meditated.

However, throughout the week, I could feel myself reaching for a stake, itching to retreat to my safe little tent.

A couple of days with this metaphor, I realized that the tent is really a cocoon. And I, a reluctant caterpillar.

Do I really intend to stay in this deceptively safe cocoon?

Are my creativity, courage and kindness really intended for me alone, in these narrow confines?

I know we all need to retreat and restore from time to time. And I know the time is coming to leave my cocoon. I trust that I have what I need to find or co-create the opening. And to trust myself to stretch my still-wet wings in the ever-evolving unknown and to fly.

Dearest One

What do you call God? After years pretending not to notice the Presence that is everywhere, the yearning for that most profound relationship outweighed my objections. A term of endearment emerged: “Dearest One!” – for God, Mystery, Presence, partner, family, companions in meditation.

And yet no term is big enough for the love we embody: Dearest One, Deepest One, Hidden One, everywhere! This song is a prayer and love song to [God].

Sing it alone or to your Beloved; sing it with a spiritual practice group or congregation. Sing it with piano or guitar, or as a choral piece with harmony.

Who are you singing to?

Who sings these words to you?

What is it like to sing these words to your deepest, wisest self?

Where is God / Life / Mystery in the song, as you sing?

LYRICS:

Dearest One, Deepest One, Hidden One, everywhere! Spacious One, Flowing One, Dreaming One, Knowing One!

Weeping One, Laughing One, Holding One, Loving One! Quiet One, Singing One, Listening One, Healing One!

Yearning One, Dreaming One, Shaping One, Moving One! Waiting One, Patient One, Resting One, Being One!

Changing One, Present One, Changeless One, Empty One! Dearest One, Deepest One, Hidden One, Everywhere!

Be Still and Know

When I was eight, sitting still, waiting for school assembly to begin, marveling at sunlight playing on the skin of my arm, I heard an inner voice, “The Christ is within.” “Of course it is!” replied the Self-assurance of the child. Years later, when I heard these words from Psalm 46:10, I felt them ringing throughout my life, from unchurched young adult activist to older spiritual explorer.

These words point us away from our culture’s mad dash for more information, noise to fill the hole in our lives. They call us to the silence within, where our hunger for meaning, for relationship with our Deepest Wisest Self may be fed.

Sing this song as an act of reverence, commitment to listen, not to tumble into the next project. Use it to calm a reactive mind. As a love song to the Deep Self.

What do you notice about the stillness?

Where does the stillness live in your body?

Who is singing?

Where are you in the song?

Where is God?

All My Relations, Singing!

After a near-death experience (1975) and my parents’ deaths (1979, 1982), I’ve been drawn to the threshold between life and death and to meditative states to calm the mind/body and help us let go. How do we cut through the western habit of seeing the body as a pesky object to subdue? Through the power of singing meditation!

Have you seen the beauty of red corpuscles, the complexity of white blood cells? We trace identity through blood lines. We imagine and take our place in the dance of being, singing and dancing through the blood, the skin, the breath.

When I hear this song, I imagine a circle dance with all my relations, those who came before, those with whom I explore and play, and those yet to come. I hear a strong, steady beat. I hear us singing in unison, then breaking into harmony. I feel us moving together, strong and supple, able to adapt to Love’s dream.

What does it feel like in your body to open yourself to all your relations?

Who do you imagine singing (and dancing) with you?

What part of the body needs to be included in your singing?

A Hole in the Flute of God

Spirit Song Volume 2 My intention this year is to share Spirit Song, 2, – 28 new songs and chants from the Mystery. The first song is A Hole in the Flute of God: I am a hole in the flute of God; listen to the music! (can you hear Rumi?) I am a song on the breath of God; listen to the music! (thank you, Hildegard!)

One of the scariest demands of the spiritual life is keeping that inner channel open, for the roaring emptiness of the Spirit, the sweet song of love and creativity, the great Silence which is all music. Emptiness, the Void, is the inner channel in every one of us. Why do we keep forgetting there is nothing to fear in its openness?

When I hear this song, I imagine a New Orleans funeral, musicians arriving to honor the life and death of someone they knew or didn’t. Plaintiff and sad, tentative and playful, sassy and ready to let music move through. No need to rush.

What flows through you right now?