Chapter 22: Walking Through Walls
A Journey of Addiction, Music, Healing, and Rediscovery
Day Twenty Two: Saturday September 6th, 2003
Today was a ‘grand day’ as N would say. I went up to the cave - the cornerstone of Thamkrabok. We participated in something truly magical that I will never forget.
I traced the lines of the ancient rock where Luang Por Yai began the Sangha (or community) of Thamkrabok in 1959. My daily routine of using the ‘Laisen’ method to make music has become a full blown project, with enough melodies from the Earth to keep me transcribing notation and writing songs for weeks. It’s quite overwhelming. I can feel my brain working very differently. Like using a brand new map that I’m not familiar with, but I never get lost. It takes a lot of mental energy, but also gives a lot of energy too. It’s hard to explain, but I feel driven by my ability to focus on music in a way I have not felt in years. It doesn’t feel like I’m writing music alone anymore.
Holding the music in my hands, before I can hear it is a marvel and a mystery. It builds a stronger appreciation towards the eventual sonic ‘reveal’.
As a patient, I can’t go outside of the compound unaccompanied, so Natalie, J, Chan, Phra Jan and Stewart’s girlfriend Jay all accompanied me.
We made our way to the cave and I stopped by the Shrine and made a prayer to Luang Por Yai, to thank her for whatever energy she has given me. I automatically uttered my Kattah, which I later found out is only meant to be spoken in the mind. It was quite daunting to take this part of the project on as I’m not sure why any of it’s happening to me. It just all feels very natural though, so I surrender to it.
I’ve never felt so strongly that every second of my life is fulfilling the simple prophecy of what my life was meant to be. I don’t mean in a great big earth-shattering prophecy, just the destiny that we all have for ourselves, whatever that might be. I feel like I am finally starting to ‘fit into myself’. That’s the only way I can describe it.
Natalie was very helpful and I included J so he would feel less more involved. They both became a an amazing supportive team, like an archaeology group at work, digging for tunes! It was really exciting.
I do not know why, but I left the tape recorder on for the whole thing. I haven’t heard it yet and I’m sure there’s nothing on it but you never know.
The first cracks were behind one Buddha in an alcove at the entrance. The second cracks I located in line with the large Buddha’s eye-line, guessing that what it was facing, may be of significance. And the third tracing was a series of water made holes and crevices. Although I do feel this project is like my baby, it was the first time I was comfortable sharing and trying to share tasks for different people according to what their strengths are and what might make them feel their own purpose.
Something about the process of using the Laisen method of making music feels much more inclusive than the traditional musical collaborations I’ve had in the past. It felt rewarding after feeling quite alone in my music for a long time now, and perhaps a way to move forward where collaboration is concerned in future.
Miss Rambhai and Phra Hans spoke to me and we reached a decision that I will leave the treatment centre on Sunday. This is standard, as I will have been in treatment for 3 weeks, and that is a normal period for most patients. I feel a bit like I’m leaving home again and saying goodbye to my mother. Just like when I went back to school in England, I remember the feeling when my mum left me before she returned to Spain. It’s exactly the same now. I hope I can stay on here for a bit.
Straight after the Laisen session in the cave, one of the high monks invites me to use his Hammond organ in the office building. It seems to be important that I’ve traced patterns in Luang Por Yai’s cave and Luang na Tong arrives with his video camera to film me playing the music for the first time. Everyone is treating it like an archaeological dig where I’ve just unearthed a sacred artefact.
I sit down at a keyboard for the first time in almost a month and I cannot wait to find out what the music from the cave sounds like. I notate where the line touches the crosshairs on the graph, put the pen down and place my hands on the keys to play…
I follow the lines from one of the three tracings and start knocking out the first few notes on the keyboard. It sounds very much like a chanting pattern. Quite up and down, swaying off the root into the major seventh and swooping up to the third again.
It’s like it’s not sure where it wants to land. I guess that’s what natural lines in mountains do though isn’t it? It’s time and pressure over hundreds or thousands of years that created the pattern and determine the trajectory of those lines. No human could ever come up with that. Which is why it’s weird to play. And weird to think that this melody has been locked in the Earth without ever being heard, until now.
The melody speaks to me and I start to hear a rhythm that might work with it. I’m playing the notes from the lines, but I’ve changed the metering to my style. As soon as I start playing the melody again, over the new rhythm, it all clicks into place. I'm taking music dictation from nature. I begin singing without thinking and lyrics start popping out of my mouth from nowhere.
“You’ve got to share what you’ve got, to get back what you lost”
My brain was tingling and I suddenly felt shattered and had to stop. I went back to the compound, but I couldn’t stop working on the song in my head. It just refused to let go of me. It felt a bit intrusive to be honest. It felt like it was me that was being played now. Apart from four words in the chorus which evaded me, the entire song (music and lyrics) was written by the time I got back to the others.
In the evening I helped C again with the vomiting, which was hard but she managed a little better than before. Afterwards everyone sat in the café by the Hay and a storm started up out of nowhere. The new patients arrived from Germany and England. T, the English guy, was very ‘London’ and I got on with him, showing him the ropes a little bit. The German guy is 15 years on heroin and has been here before. He is really sick, and at 42 has a very sad energy. I sat and played songs with the rain falling down like rocks. Natalie, Chan and the woman I wrote the song for were all there. I felt as if it were Christmas. With the warm glow between us, I sang Stormy Weather and did a few of my own as well. Stewart’s girlfriend, Joy, was there too.
Before all this, I went to the chanting with J and chanted along as best I could with the monks. At the end of it, the high monks began their sermon, until a mysterious figure appeared at the far end of the Sala. He had a woolly red hat and was smoking a fag. With my out of date prescription lenses I couldn’t make out his face so I turned around to the monks to see what was going on. They all had their hands raised and cupped in prayer and it struck me that the strange figure who was getting up to sit at the top was Luang Por. It was such a delightful occasion as he began to talk (in Thai) to the monks about what was, I suppose, his own understanding of Lokutara (the holy teaching that this Buddhist sect study and practice). I did not understand what he was saying but it moved me all the same. Eventually he noticed I was there (probably something to do with the pink pyjamas) and he turned to the nuns who were laughing at whatever he had just said. Then he spoke to Miss. Rambhai to translate what he had just said. She told me he said the following:
“You should cease to love, cease to hate and stop being jealous, for two hours a day.”
He said this to everyone, but I took it as a case in point as it was this teaching he asked to be translated into English. I take note of this and after telling Phra Hans, he says I could make a Sajja (vow of action) for it.
At the end of the chanting, many of the foreign monks and Bill Bloomer came to me to ask what Luang Por had said. I explained as best I could what I remembered from Miss. Rambhai’s translation. (She continued to translate the rest for me which was very sweet, as it’s not easy). I slept well that night.
I support these organisations who are shaping a system change to integrate mental health awareness and well-being into the music industry. Please do read about their work.
The Creative Well
Music Mind Matters
Waterbear College of Music