A Whirling Dervish, A Storm, A Stirring in a Coffee Cup, and A Prayer - #acnotes

Not necessarily in that order.

I will begin by revealing the fact that this is one of those #acnotes that’s been in the drafts for close to a year. I’ve written parts of it in a book, partly on the Keep app, and most of it has been in my head. Today, I decided to bring it forth because I feel it’s time. I wish to move on and wording this here would slightly lessen the load for my journey ahead. For me, to write about this song, was like Turner painting the snowstorm.

||This is one of Turner’s most daring paintings. In a battle between modern machine and nature, a steamboat faces a blizzard. Its black fumes join the whirling vortex of snow and sea. Turner claimed he ‘got the sailors to lash me to the mast to observe [the storm]...for four hours’. Although it can’t be proven, it shows that Turner wanted us to see this dizzying scene as an authentic record. When he heard it had been ridiculed as ‘soapsuds and whitewash’, he responded: ‘I did not paint it to be understood, but... to show what such a scene was like’.||
Courtesy: Tate

Every time I sat down to listen and write about it, I got quite carried away in the song. This time, however, after hundreds of listens, I’m sharing my reflection on this composition. It was as though I was staring back at the eye of the storm, the storm walls, the spirals. And while writing about it from memory, I felt truly vulnerable, overwhelmed and broken down at times. So, here goes nothing.

Snow Storm, or Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth, (full title: Snow Storm – Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth Making Signals in Shallow Water, and going by the Lead. The Author was in this Storm on the Night the “Ariel” left Harwich)^[1] is a painting by English artist Joseph Mallord William Turner (1775–1851) from 1842. Source

“Eugene Peterson: I think the listening business is the part of prayer that gets most neglected. And plenty of people have taught me this, but one of the best teachers, for me, has been Karl Barth. And he’s just adamant about, when you pray, you don’t ask God for things. You pray to listen. And then, when you’ve listened, you can hear God speak and take you into paths you’d never thought about.”

Krista Tipett: You propose quite a different relationship. I mean, you say, “God speaks to us; our answers are our prayers.”

Source: OnBeing

The part I’ve shared from the above conversation between Tipett and Peterson is what I recall from their podcast on OnBeing, when I listen to this song. Unfortunately, this is song that’s only available on YouTube at the moment, however, I hope it’s available on other streaming platforms soon. May I request, if you’re listening to this on your laptop, set aside your smartphone. If you’re listening to it on your smartphone, maybe choose a convenient time and place where you won’t be interrupted for approx. 7 minutes. Needless to say, a good pair of earphones help.

A composition that’s a blend of Matt Redman’s gospel number and Kutti Revathi’s lyrics which is sung by ARR and Sunmisola Agbebi. For once, I won’t share the lyrics or its meaning, and I’ll leave that to you to decipher.

The song begins with just 3 notes (D B D B C B C B) played as a base on loop. Partly, reminiscent of the tamboora or tanpura that’s played in the background to create a continuous drone in Indian Classical music. It’s as though this is the anchor for the entire song. You feel tethered to these notes yet you drift in different dimensions, distances and directions and you return to the epicenter. All you need to know is it’s a prayer. A call for help. An S.O.S. that is in the most meditative form.

Play the song, sit back, and you close your eyes — picture a whirling dervish in a trance as you hear the Sunmisola’s voice. Then you hear the strings, you may picture the dervish morphing into a storm on the sea and as you focus keenly you feel you’re above the clouds as the bass notes fill in with the strings. You’re caught in the currents, you float, as ARR croons. The voice echoes, taking you by your hands. Surprisingly, in this case, the echoes resonate before the actual singing. It’s as though the prayer is being worded at the back of the head and then leaves the lips, upward and onward. Now you’re at that point they call the horizon. The place that you thought could only be seen but never touched. But here you are, reaching out. The next moment you feel you’re elevated higher and are caught in a zone that’s divides darkness and the light. A point that’s impeccably described by Ted Chiang in his story
Tower of Babel:

“For the first time, he knew night for what it was: the shadow of the earth itself,
cast against the sky.”

Then you see a streak of light as ARR returns at around 5:00 min mark on the track (image below for reference). No spoiler here, just surrender. Let go of any defenses and listen mindfully. I don’t want to point out anything beyond this.
Let go. Close your eyes shut, tight. Listen.

Before you feel you’re about to fall, take a breather emerge to the surface. You open your eyes now, to find yourself in daylight, reclined on a chair, across a table and you see a stirred cup of coffee slowly reclaiming its stillness. Well, that’s how I felt. Wish to listen to this song once again and share your thoughts in the comments? Or, maybe, you wish to keep this to yourself. I’m fine with that too. Perhaps, you now have your own version of a prayer. Let it echo. Or, let it whisper, feebly.
Whatever you choose, to do with your prayer, do keep in mind to listen too.

#acnotes