Compassion Speaks: Making Space for Compassion – Enter Another World

by M. Doretta Cornell, RDC

One of the graces needed to develop a compassionate heart is the ability to see the world differently, to be able to see the way another person – or whole set of persons– sees or experiences the world.  A few weeks ago, I was plunged quite unexpectedly into a world I did not really know even was a “world” – the world of marimba music, of percussion as an art form, not just an accompaniment.

I have known for many years that one of my cousins played the marimba, and I once heard him and another musician in a percussion concert.  But then I heard my cousin Rich O’Meara, and Ian David Rosenbaum, other members of Sandbox Percussion (Jonathan Allen, Victor Caccese, and Michael Compitello), and Rich’s son, Kevin O’Meara, in a concert called Wooden Music at North Salem’s Ruth Keeler Memorial Library. (Wooden Music is also the title of one of Rich’s compositions: hear it here.)

The Music
The marimba, for those who might not know, is similar to a xylophone  (my laywoman’s description), only with wooden keys over a resonating array of metal pipes.  The sounds ranged from deeply percussive rhythms to the beautifully melodic.  

How did this bring me into a different world?  I will give you two examples.

One of the pieces, looking at ‘r’,  Rich explained, was inspired by a painting which consisted of a lovely sketch of a woman and some brilliant colored dots.  One marimba played a lyrical melody, evoking the sketch; the other interjected a short sequence of notes that recalled Rich’s experience of the colors as he studied the painting.  The sounds wove in and out of each other, almost at odds, then complementing each other, creating a rich mixture of gorgeous sounds.  The library’s high peaked ceiling added to the resonance.

Now, I have often looked at paintings, and have even been inspired to poetry by some – but to experience it as music is totally out of my range.  Yet, with Rich’s brief introduction, I could begin to understand the music in relation to a painting such as this.  I felt transported to a whole new realm of sensation.

Another piece, performed by Sandbox Percussion and Kevin, was Music for Pieces of Wood, by Steve Reich.  Being a poet, I assumed that the title was a metaphor for something. . . I was wrong.  This piece was played entirely on five blocks of wood!  Three of the musicians each held a single rhythm throughout the piece:  Kevin began playing a simple one-beat rhythm, then one by one the others entered, each playing a distinct rhythm.  The final two each began with a one-note sound, then moved to more complex patterns.  As each entered, the rhythms of the whole were changed, deepening and weaving emerging patterns.   It was absolutely astounding!

The Musicians and Their World
After the concert, I was invited back to Rich’s brother John’s house, with the performers.  There another world opened up, as they spoke of how the instruments are made and maintained.  Each “key” of the marimba keyboard, I learned, is a block of wood shaped by size and a curved underside to create its specific tone.  “Tuning” a key involves sanding or carving the curve to adjust the tone.  Ian described watching a master tuner cutting and sanding a block, trimming an edge slightly to raise or lower the tone.

Sitting under the stars and listening to these musicians, all but Rich in their twenties, talk about their craft, made me wonder how many ways people experience the world that seems so obvious every day.  Words and color shape my perceptions of the world, and I have assumed that these are primary ways that everyone experiences it.  This week I learned how differently the world and our lives can be perceived – how many dimensions of my own experience never enter my consciousness.

Compassion-building
When I find myself reacting to the way another person acts or speaks, I hope this new understanding will make me wonder how he or she is experiencing the world.  What does she hear that my mundane ears don’t hear?  What vital image does he see that my eyes see as mere “furniture” against which life unfolds?

How huge our hearts would be if we could open them to more and more ways of experiencing life!

This piece is the first of a series on “Making Space for Compassion,” which, I hope, will unfold occasionally over the next few months.   I invite you to add your own experiences in a Comment.   Let’s expand each other’s worlds.