Mickel Adzema says:
On Yoko Ono and On Music as Art and as Opiate
Yoko continues her uncanny ability to take sound and words to weave poetry in its deepest sense. This composition is an audible reflection pointing back at the basic experience of life – one’s everyday reality, one’s real felt experience, which few people notice as they spend their time in their imaginary symbolic … read more
On Yoko Ono and On Music as Art and as Opiate
With the 2009 release of “Feel the Sand” on the “Between My Head and the Sky” album, Yoko continues her uncanny ability to take sound and words to weave poetry in its deepest sense. This composition is an audible reflection pointing back at the basic experience of life – one’s everyday reality, one’s real felt experience, which few people notice as they spend their time in their imaginary symbolic world of words, creating future castles, imaginary maps to it, or reweaving word smoke about memories of past battles. It is Zen in its true sense; it is primal; it brings one closer to the only reality that exists, Experience, which is God. So it is spiritual in reminding us of the Reality of which God is comprised, by cutting through the maya, Matrix, beta consciousness, and monkey-mind hoopla and flotsam which we confuse with Reality.
That is poetry’s deepest purpose — connecting us with reality and feeling. It is important because we humans, scared of reality that might be “too” real, all too easily spend our lives in phantom worlds populated with ghostly others from our past, mirages of the future to make up for something, and endless spider webs of concepts trying to connect all these invisibles and nonrealities, all the while our body goes through the repetitive motions of life mechanically, robot-like, and zombie-like. Zombie-like because we move, we act, but the lights aren’t even on inside; we may as well be sleep-walking or dead. Why? Well, just try to remember all the little things you do in the course of your day. Chances are you’ll remember outlines, but mostly remember what you were planning, intending, or figuring your next moves — all the while unconscious of what you are doing in the present.
But Yoko One once again finds a unique way to wake us to the only life we really have – the one in the present with whatever is there. She helps us to be more alive, more awake.
Is this good music? Well, you can’t dance to it; you wouldn’t want it playing in your car so you can forget that you’re wasting your time on an ugly freeway, breathing noxious auto fumes, and thinking about being, not there, but at your destination. No, because this would wake you up to the facts you’re trying to forget.
But if music can be more than an opiate, can actually be artistic in the way Nietzsche defined it; and yes, it can; then this is an example of that.
But it is unlikely to be considered music or even good music among the people of the Western “civilized” world. For it has been many decades since those days when we would listen to music and feel we had become better for it; feel like our music sessions were meditative experiences, punctuated with insights, even epiphanies. No, the wealthy powers maintaining their positions by weaving the Matrix have put their wealth toward creating a Brave New World of terrified people, grasping desperately at the soma pills of anitdepressants and pain-killers to block out the horror, which unfortunately, then, they help to maintain because having chosen stupidity, they cannot even know what the problems or the solutions are, so they are easily manipulated to act against their own interests. Don’t believe me? One word – teabaggers. Coincidentally, this is the day after people who wanted a good health care reform program voted for a man to kill it, over against someone who would have continued Ted Kennedy’s lifelong fight but could be voted against because she didn’t know baseball as well as they thought she should have.
Still, Yoko Ono continues to be the sublime artist; and she can’t be blamed for throwing pearls before swine, when that is all she can see. And I thank her for continuing despite that disheartening prospect, because there are those, like myself, while we are not great in number, who DO hear her, who are inspired and redirected, happily, as we too will forget, to notice the solid ground beneath our feet, the smell of the air coursing into and out of us, and our rootedness in the moment. And with that we will feel at home once again, stronger for relying on substantial things, and happier for remembering the Paradise of God’s Existence all around and through us, grateful to have been wakened from the path we had just been on in our imagined prison, where we had just, uncoerced, opened a cell door, walked through into it and was about to lock it behind us, all unconsciously, as our monkey-minds were busily at work constructing and destructing in an imaginary future or a nonexistent past.
Thanks, Yoko, we need you more and more as the years go by, and the Matrix continues its social and pharmaceutical hold over our humanity, nay, our divinity. I know that you are not seeking to be a guru; I know that you are not even really seeking anything, except to do what you must do — being the unique you, expressing the Truth that that you know well, though there are ever fewer ears to hear. Still, because of my gratitude, I hope for you that after the Kali Yuga finally hits bottom and our world will need to wake up, or die, that those living at that time will see you, acknowledge your true role, and thank you, as I do, for the help your music will be to many at that time.