His Voice is Music

This might seem an odd place to start a catalog of admiration points, but it’s not odd for me. I am, as one of my finest music teachers said to me, “a born musician.” Music has been extremely important to me all of my life. Many of the most formative hours of my youth were spent practicing and playing music. Some of the most deeply enjoyable experiences of my life have been in making music, which to me has always been the most powerful form of listening to and feeling the beauty of music.

When I hear a great musician perform, admiration is one of the feelings that comes up, because I know something about what it takes to do what that person is doing, and because I appreciate the great gift of beauty being given to me and to all who are listening. Other feelings may intrude, of course, like envy of that person’s talent, and frustration that I have not reached that level of proficiency in my own performances.

There are moments when I am listening to Maharaji’s voice and suddenly realize that I am hearing the sweetest music I have ever heard. It all comes together, the clarity of his words, the nuances of each pitch, tone, and stress, the rhythm of his cadences, the balance of sound and silence. It is poetry, and music, and the essence of all art. It is beauty itself. Passionate admiration wells up. Admiration, and a sense of good fortune for having the privilege of hearing this virtuoso of virtuosos, this Heifitz, this Horowitz, this Maria Callas.

And, somehow, envy doesn’t come into this experience. I also realize in such moments that I have the same instrument he is using, and that I have the potential to play it in the same beautiful way. However far above and beyond me and any other person I have ever listened to it seems, at the same time it is recognizable as my own human nature. His music is telling me, just as his words are telling me, that deep within me is the same source of inspiration and grace that makes this possible for him. No envy needed. Talent is not an issue. It’s just a matter of practice.