Newsletter Winter 2023
Playing In Harmony
Let's say that God is a Deep Listening who is attentive to all the voices of our universe. Let's say that these voices include the voices of people, but also of animals and plants, atoms and molecules, spirits and ancestors. If this is the case then perhaps one way to pray is not to pray to God, but rather to listen with God. Listening not only to what others are saying, but listening to what others are trying to say. Listening to their explorations. Listening to their uniqueness. Listening to the music they play. ‘Consider the lilies of the field and the jazz of the heart.’ Didn't Jesus say this? Or something close?
In Appreciation of Music
Photo courtesy Jesse Orrico
I am a listener of music. I am a fan, a lover, an enjoyer but not a participant. I have no talent; I play no instrument. This knowledge always pained me because having musical talent is the one wish I have had since childhood. I long to sing with a beautiful voice on a stage or even gently to one of my hospice patients. But I don’t have it. My voice cracks- struggles to find the right notes and often misses the mark. I have no sense of rhythm or timing either. So, I am relegated to listening. But I do love music. I couldn’t live without it.
As I started to think in a process way though, the way I think about music has changed. I am a participant. I am a receiver of music. It is a gift which I gladly receive. Music affects my mood and reaches into my heart, my soul, my being. A sad song can make me cry. A happy song can too if it is tied to memories. Certain songs can take me back in time. Johnny Cash songs bring me back to my childhood car trips with the entire family- mom, dad and, my brother singing along to the 8-track tape. Remember those?
A musical experience is illustrative of process philosophy. Our prehensions link us the past actual world, and in listening to music, we hear each new note in light of what came before, which means that our prehensions of the past play a key role in our appreciation of what we are hearing in the present.
I often think of the earth having a heartbeat that is like a drum beat. We dance an improvisation to this beat. We make music together in our noises- our tears, laughter talking and singing. What is this life is a song that we sing to God. What if God sings back? Rather, we all sing together, weaving the melodies and discordance, the beats and crescendos. Sometimes we harmonize but usually not. But it is our own novel song, and it has been playing for eternity.
-Kathleen Reeves, Community Relations Specialist
Peace at its deepest level has a musical quality like that of an improvisational jazz concert. The music at such a concert consists of a creative and evolving harmony of sound produced by different musicians who have the material wherewithal to purchase their instruments and who are cooperatively responding to one another in an ongoing live performance, often in surprising and joyful ways. If the concert is to continue, the musicians must be willing to keep on playing even when things threaten to fall apart, and they must be willing to forgive one another for the mistakes they might make. Peace is like this. It can be unpredictable, filled with creative tensions, and it can have its sad and mournful moments. But it is cooperative and creative, surprising and sometimes joyful, and its competitive dimensions do not degenerate into violence.
A Musician in Process
I’ve been composing songs for decades. Over time, new strumming techniques, elements of good storytelling, and the use of evocative, sensory-based words all became lures for novelty in my approach. You could say that my journey as a songwriter has always been developmental and processive.
It wasn’t until I was in my doctoral program at Claremont School of Theology that I began to write process-friendly hymns. It’s been my hope that by singing contemporary, compelling theologies, we can more easily internalize their ideas and thereby broaden the horizons of our faith communities. The first was “We All Are Related,” a product of my mid-term creative project for Roland Faber’s class in Eco-Process Theology. Another class with Frank Rogers on Compassion-based Methods of Social Healing led me to write “Love is Perfect Power,” in which I wove together themes from process theology and nonviolent resistance.
In 2019, the song “The Whole-Making Nearness of God” emerged from the content of a keynote address I’d prepared for a Haden Institute Summer Dream and Spirituality Conference. In it, I draw from my doctoral research integrating the work of Alfred North Whitehead and Carl Jung, adding a pinch of Richard Rohr’s ideas on the Universal Christ to the recipe as well. You can read more about the song, listen to a recording, and see a photo of my performance of it at the conference here.
The Whole-Making Nearness of God
©2019 Sheri D. Kling
In cosmos and psyche the Sacred is near
We’re interconnected so what shall we fear?
In each forming moment God’s new will appear
The whole-making nearness of God
We cannot carry the glory or shame
We cannot heal all the pain in our name
Living in Christ trades compassion for blame
The whole-making nearness of God
Even within all the suffering we know
God’s possibilities yearning to grow
Grace creativity comes in the flow
The whole-making nearness of God
Let it flow, let it flow, that the world may know
Seeking the best for each being that lives
Never excluding, this Cosmos forgives
Wholeness and healing, the love that God gives
The whole-making nearness of God
–Sheri D. Kling, Director of Process & Faith
Fair Market Band at the Hollywood Farmers Market
William Purcell, Reid Kerr, Madeline Oaklander, Bill McClellan (photo by Bill Purcell)
Metaphysics displays itself in musical experiences in front of my face every Sunday morning in Hollywood. A half block from Sunset & Vine organic farmers set up their booths from 5:00 a.m. or earlier. About 6:30 I set up my 10x10 canopy between the raw oysters and one of the flower sellers. There are four blocks with booths on both sides, shoulder-to-shoulder.
More than one vendor has told me the market is their “church.” The gospel is community, kindness, good humor…and organic food. It’s a public space, with its share of contrasting interests—commercial, personal, predatory—and the congregation handles it all. (The market is one of many run by Sustainable Economic Enterprises of Los Angeles [seela.org].)
Creation overflows its actuality. Resources are trimmed to the available satisfaction. The excess suggests intentions and opportunities for other satisfactions. Muscular overflow illustrates this. The tongue sticks out while the needle is threaded. Superfluities with any regularity, permit canalization into greater entities. Wave forms, minerals, bodies, families with infants shopping on a Sunday morning.
We begin: simple song, boom-chuck, boom-chuck, 4:4 medium tempo. Soon a head two booths away bobs in rhythm (the hands are holding onions). What might have been a prosaic step turns into dance move. A pre-verbal infant starts keeping time with us. The parents notice, linger, and come closer. Music overflows our booth, permeates the area. I treasure the occasional applause, often from oyster customers seated behind us, and especially from vendors who have heard us every Sunday for years.
A musical ensemble (whatever genre) of 4-7 players (we’re a quartet at present) can shift from solo artistry to mass effect in an instant. The interplay of individual and group occurs in real time, at close quarters, sometimes inches away. The coherence of the ensemble is a metaphor for, an example of, the mutual cohesion of the components of any compound. Music is continuous with the togetherness of any and all events. The cosmic past and future endorse our movements, and sometimes even applaud. We look forward to bringing it together on Sundays.
–Bill McClellan
All that Jazz
I am a jazz enthusiast and in my more extravagant moments I entertain the idea that it might be good for everybody to listen to improvisational jazz at least once a day for twenty minutes. Here is my argument.
Listening to jazz on a daily basis could help widen our sense of harmony so that we can better appreciate the many voices of our world, some of which are very different from our own.
It could help us become more tolerant of ambiguity so that we would not always want to divide the world into tightly-knit compartments.
It could help us become open to surprise so that we don’t feel we had to control everything.
One of America’s leading jazz critics, Gary Giddings, says that jazz musicians have two goals: "Creating music that keeps listeners wondering what’s next, and finding a novel context within which to explore old truths." I think the world would be a better place if we didn’t always have to know what comes next.
Nevertheless, in my wiser moments, I realize there are additional ways of becoming more grateful for diversity, tolerant of ambiguity, and open to surprise. Life itself can be a teacher. So I ask you to consider the possibility that the mind of jazz and the idea of jazz might help offer some important lessons in life, even if you never want to listen to a single note of it.
The mind of jazz is an open-mind. It is relaxed yet alert, hospitable to strangers, delighted by surprise, honest about suffering, and yet trusting in fresh possibilities. It is a hopeful mind. The idea of jazz is like the idea of a diverse and inclusive community. The founder of modern Pakistan, Muhammad Iqbal, called it spiritual democracy. It is the image of people coming together, listening to one another, respecting one another’s talents, and trying to create something beautiful together. They are free to express themselves as individuals, having been given the opportunity to develop their unique creative potentials. And yet they also have the humility to let others solo without having to be the center of attention. They are accountable for themselves and to one another, yet they are also forgiving, making the best of their own and other's mistakes. Most importantly they have faith. As they play together they trust in the availability of fresh possibilities.
In a world filled with so much violence and suffering, it would be a good idea if a lot of people lived this jazz-like way. It would be good if people in households, workplaces, neighborhoods, villages, nations and listened to one another and worked together with a spirit of forgiveness, humility, creativity, and respect. And certainly it would help if they tried to make music with other animals and the earth honoring the unique voices of the more-than-human world. Surely this is one of our higher callings as a species. Cats are called to purr, dogs to bark, fish to swim, and birds to fly. We humans have our limitations. But perhaps our calling is to dwell in harmony with one another and the earth.
–Jay McDaniel, Board Chair of the Cobb Institute
Musicians who have listened to birds believe [that birds derive pleasure from singing] much more than ornithologists, who are terrified of being accused of anthropomorphism... Having studied thousands of hours of birdsong from around the world, I am convinced some species possess an aesthetic sense, however limited compared to ours. It is part of human egotism to believe that only we have active minds.
The Music of Poetry
Photo courtesy Nick Fewings
Poetry and music share an intrinsic connection as expressive art forms that transcend linguistic boundaries to evoke emotions. Both engage the senses through rhythm, cadence, and the deliberate arrangement of words or notes. Like music, poetry possesses a unique cadence, with its meter and rhyme creating a melodic quality that resonates with the reader's or listener's emotions. The carefully chosen words in poetry function like musical notes, forming a harmonious composition that can convey complex feelings and narratives. Both mediums have the power to transcend literal meaning, allowing for a profound emotional experience that transcends the confines of language, making poetry and music powerful tools for connecting with the depths of human experience. We hope you enjoy this selection of music themed poems from the Claremont Raven Poetry Group.
Bandshell
Orchestra members
tune instruments
until ready for an
anxious audience.
Clarinet trill
followed by glissando,
Rhapsody in Blue
starts low
soars up the back wall
flies into the star-lit sky
shoots notes and
clefs and rests and
time signatures
hides them in clouds
behind full moon
bursting as fireworks
until a phrase, repeat
brings them back to earth—
flings aloft again
massages ears of devoted
patrons who silently
sway in seats
until gratitude
overwhelms
to a standing ovation
crescendo
of applause and
howls and shouts
bravo, maestro, bravo.
–Veronica Michalowski (August 30, 2023)
Photo courtesy Felix Koutchinski
Bach’s Lunch
Twenty mouths to feed. It is a wonder
how Anna Magdalena could manage
to send her husband out with even a bit
of schnitzel, a taste of wurst wrapped
in brown paper, a few pfennigs
for a draught of beer. And he driven
to distraction, twenty long years
in his duties to the city: tune endlessly
recalcitrant organs, give lessons,
teach Latin, conducting boy-choirs
of balky sopranos looking forward
to the day their voices dropped.
And he writing the weekly church cantata
with some critic always finding fault,
complaining how he wasn’t earning his pay.
But genug, he decided one gray, Leipzig day.
Enough. He must compose for himself
and the One alone who understood:
Masses, fugues, concertos,
counterpoints of angels dancing.
No, he would devote whatever time
he had left to the glory of God, follow
wherever the music took, give it
everything he had and go for baroque.
–Richard Luftig
Photo courtesy Morgan Von Gunten
Harry at the Piano
I don't understand
this conversation
if music is language
then jazz is slang
and harry speaks fluently
he even invented
some words
his jazz lingo
still in my head
I can only hum
until I get lost
I gaze down
at his hand
In mine
fingers still
the drum beat
of the oxygen tank
too loud so I hum
I'm making my own
jazz language for Harry
goodbye song
–Kat Reeves
Twilight Time
Heavenly shades of night are falling, its twilight time
Out of the mist your voice is calling, tis twilight time
~The platters
I watched you slip
away by the pound
notches in your belt ran out
this is death ugly and mean
it stole your life in bits
while we avoided
saying goodbye
death moaned
with your voice
death gurgled
and heaved
with your chest
it pushed you out
but I won’t let you go
as long as I can
remember you like a song
–Kat Reeves
Walking Hand in Hand
In honor of countless voices raised to sing
“We Shall Overcome,” a gospel song that
was sung in labor movement protests and,
most famously, in the Civil Rights Movement.
Walking hand in hand,
together in struggling,
dreaming, repairing,
building the world
that is yet to be.
Between the singing of
“We shall overcome” and
“We shall live in peace,”
we chant “doing” words,
“We’ll walk hand in hand”—
the bridge between overcoming
and living in peace, a bridge
of working together
to end forever
hatred and oppression, to forge
pathways of harmony, to join
hands, wheelchairs, feet
in the long walk
toward justice.
–Mary Elizabeth Moore
Learning to Play the Ukulele
That four stringed devil
makes dents
in the pampered
pads of my fingers
building calluses
to endure the torment
for it
I must cut
my manicured fingernails
in order to get closer
to the frets
I could wring that fretted neck
fingers tied and tangled
as I try to switch
from cord to cord
plucking and clucking
out of sync and rhythm
we make awful music together
for hours we endure
each other with
fits and frustration
I enjoy its company better
when it sits in the corner
inside the closed case
–Kathleen Reeves
Musical Salon
Marcella’s table
is an allegro—
blush transparent
depression-glass
dinnerware
matching serveware
pale sage wine glasses
mother’s silver
ecru linen napkins
crocheted alabaster
table runners,
piano/cello
background sonata
close friends
jovial, intimate
conversation builds
to an orchestral
crescendo.
By end of dinner
Chardonnay sipped,
overture cheese appetizers,
aria salmon entree, raspberry
dessert finale savored
adagio pace sets in,
guests sated
musical coda
cymbalic finish.
–Veronica Michalowski (June 11, 2022)
Photo courtesy Kevin McCutcheon
"Deep Lights" Mulicolored Gouache on watercolor paper by Veronica Michalowski
There's a New Kind of Music (we’re all still learning to play)
I hear no one, and there' music there
I see no one that I thought would be comin' to stay
I see no one that I hadn't seen a thousand times before
But there's a new kind of music I wasn't hearing yesterday
wasn't hearing yesterday
I hear singing, and the voice is ours
I can feel the rhythm that will dance our fears away
I feel the wonder of the people who are reaching out their hands
and there's a new kind of music, we're all still learning to play
all still learning to play
Bridge:
We are the sunrise we've been waiting for
We are the earth, reaching toward the sky
We are the rising of a thousand songs of freedom --
Will you sing? Will you rise up? Will you fly…
Fly----
Fly----
(repeat 2nd verse; fade & repeat on last line)
–Ernie Tamminga
Andante with a Diva (without iPod)
Clad in shorts and tee shirts
daily joggers run for life
duly burning off their pounds
counting as they make their rounds–
1.7 miles, 1.8, 1.9 and 2–
Nearly there now, left foot, right foot
one more mile and then they’re finished.
Tuned to their iPods’ silent blares
wired up, ears plugged, sound bytes
beating out the time
they multi-task with E-files
E-muse, E-ficient.
But I have left my ear buds home
to go walking with an elder friend.
As rapids rush by river rocks
the runners race past
my thirteen-year-old dog and me.
Tosca pauses, glances up
to check our destination
I slow to let her set the pace
arthritis sets for her
on our andante amble.
We share comrade comforts–
the tangy bite of late fall air
in wafts on cheek and muzzle
decaying leaves of summer’s end
pungent in morning sun
the lake, a sheen of silver fractal–
take time to see the season’s subtle turn
rejoice in the music of this day:
the chatter of mothers strolling with infants
shifts to croons as babies grow restive
bells from bicyclists wanting to pass
the backbeat of sneaker shod joggers
whimpering mews from the pup
who is asking to pay his respects
to my elegant diva poodle.
Down by the water the locals take over
in an improvised call and response
TWEE-oooo-wee riffs trilled by red-wingèd black birds
fresh from their dips in the marsh
CLUCK-a-cluck scats sung out by the wood ducks
completing their breakfast repast
are answered by quacks from resident mallards
a climax of leafy arpeggios strummed by the sycamores
catches the freshening breeze
downhill the wind soughs high in the sugar pines
brushing a tempo of cool syncopation
dried oak leaves rustle to pick up the beat
backed by a PLUNKeta PLUNKa from rowboats
as fishermen search for deep lurking trout.
Back at the flagpole, the lines catch the breeze
setting halyards atremble to close
with an unrehearsed coda of heavy metallica.
Reaching the pavement again, I stop
to applaud the assembled musicians
and to breathe in the beauty of happenstance.
–Lynn Sargent De Jonghe
Music is the poetry of the soul, it's lyrics are the harmony.
Together in Harmony: A Music Cohort
Music in Process
Music in Process is a cohort of the Cobb Institute to promote well-being by sharing and listening to music. The cohort consists of individuals of all ages who help create just and compassionate communities by supporting one another's musical journeys. Examples of this support include sharing and discussing our favorite music, learning together about the power of music to connect, uplift, and inspire, and contributing our talents by sharing the joy of music in our local communities.
Who We Are
We are people who love music and its potential to co-create beauty, cultivate compassion, and celebrate life. We have been uplifted and transformed by music ourselves, and enjoy sharing that experience with others. Some of us are young; some of us are of a certain age. Some of us play music in public spaces; some just love to listen. Wherever we are on our musical journeys, we acknowledge the importance of supportive companionship along the way. We feel better when music fills the air, whether in our earbuds, our homes, online spaces, community venues, concert halls, or stadiums.
As process thinkers, we recognize that our destinies are inextricably entangled. We know that music builds bridges, brings people together, and creates positive change in the world. We're grateful for the healing that comes with breath, vibration, rhythm and motion. We enjoy the musical contrasts expressed in all styles of music, across all generations and cultures. We seek the novelty that amazes us when we first encounter unfamiliar composers and their compositions. We love the old favorites, too, because the practice of love reinforces love.
Actual Occasions: Upcoming Events & Offerings
Interweavings: A Season of Darkness and Light 2023
December 5 @ 5:00 pm – 6:00 pm PST
Cosmologically, this period of late fall marks the increase in hours of darkness until the winter solstice when the hours of light begin to make a return. Many religions have major holidays during this period. For some, the period of darkness is not feared but is celebrated as a time of rest and renewal or of waiting in a kind of pregnant pause. Most celebrate the increase in light and see this turning of the season as the welcome return of the energies of rebirth and growth.
In this event, we’ll introduce some of the major holidays in late fall and early winter, noting their significance in each tradition. We’ll look at Diwali, Advent, Hanukkah, St. Lucia Day, Winter Solstice, Christmas, Epiphany, Kwanzaa, New Year’s Eve, and Lunar New Year.
Process Pop-Up: Re-Imagining the Role of Capital
December 15 @ 5:00 pm – 6:00 pm PST
If capitalism doesn’t work for people and the environment, what does work? Capital itself may not be the problem, but only in the way it is regulated. In this process pop-up a different approach to capital, following Herman Daly, John Cobb, and several related thinkers, is played out in the practical workings of an imaginary community. Is such a community feasible, and who would want to become a member? Kent Myers will explore these questions and present a new economic vision for ecological civilization.
Begins January 10th. Seating is limited. Don't miss out!
The certificate program provides an occasion to learn of the great diversity of process philosophies and the wide variety of ways in which those ideas can be expressed in everyday life. It will begin with a general introduction to process thought and end with an opportunity to creatively and concretely express what participants have learned. In between students will participate in courses covering a variety of topics: an in-depth look at Whitehead's philosophy of organism, an exploration of religious traditions through a process-relational perspective, an overview of the complex landscape of ecological civilization, and an analysis of the relevance of Whitehead's cosmology to the natural sciences.
We invite you to join us for this exciting experiment in a creative, transformative, and holistic adventure of ideas.
A Collective Processing of Gilles Deleuze’s Masterpiece
This is a brand new learning circle, co-sponsored by the Cobb Institute and the Center for Process Studies. The group will be dedicated to exploring process philosopher Gilles Deleuze’s seminal work, Difference and Repetition (1968). Its goal is to collectively process the rich themes within the book, occasionally identify resonances with the larger process tradition, and foster insightful discussions along the way. Participants need no previous experience with Deleuze or the text.
Meets on the third Monday of each month, from January thru July, 2024.
John Cobb & Friends Gatherings
| December 5 | Bruce Epperly – Christmas in Process: From Cosmos to Cradle |
| December 12 | Frank Rogers – Cradled in the Arms of Compassion |
| December 19 | Jay McDaniel & Friends – Our Community of Process and Practice |
| December 26 | Christmas Break / No Meeting – Enjoy your holiday! |
Music can change the world because it can change people.
Musical Blogs
The Hopes and Fears of All the Years: Singing the Carols of Christmas
By Bruce Epperly | Dec. 1, 2023
As we raise our voices in song, the sentiments carried by each lyric become threads weaving a tapestry of shared reverence and celebration. The hymns we sing, even if they are not always “theologically correct,” represent embodied theology and spirituality. In the warmth of familiar melodies, we find a sanctuary where sentiment and devotion harmonize, offering a profound connection to the divine. These songs, though they may not always adhere strictly to theological norms, become vessels for our collective spirituality, allowing us to express and experience the ineffable beauty of the Christmas story. We invite you to join Bruce Epperly as he considers the impact of music during this holiday season.
Healing Epiphanies of Harmony
By Thomas Atwood | October 20, 2023
Like many troubadours and jesters through the years, Thomas Atwood is a singer. In Whiteheadian terms, every musical experience he had was a prehension of healing, and Thomas needed a ton of lessons about healing. Spiritual teachers have said that if you learn enough about any field of knowledge with sufficient complexity, sublime mystical experiences can be invited to enter the soul. For those with a gift for receptiveness, the invitation is more easily accepted. Abilities, life experiences, and the worldviews they construct will expand or contract the possibilities. We invite you to enjoy this story about healing and music.
Music for the Soul
By Srividhya Balaji September 30, 2022
We have, over the years, segregated sound into different buckets — Carnatic, Hindustani, Jazz, Folk, Western, etc. When pure sound is perceived only via such fragmentary walls of genres and strict disciplines, we lose touch with the fundamental experiential aspect of our own inner Naada (sound) and what remains is mere technique that doesn’t touch our souls. Srividhya Balaji weaves the sounds together infused in spirituality without boundaries. She moves beyond the confines of traditions and norms of classical forms of music into an adventure that asks us to embrace the novelty that she is creating and walk on uncharted territory, where neither the path nor the destination is clear.
Cobb Institute Bookshelf
The Season of Giving
We're so grateful that you're a part of our community. As you consider your end of year giving commitments, we hope that you'll consider making an investment in the Cobb Institute by becoming a recurring donor. We need your financial contributions to support our staff and realize our vision.
Donating to the Cobb Institute is a powerful investment in enriching lives and fostering ecological well-being. Whitehead's worldview emphasizes interconnectedness and interdependence, encouraging a holistic understanding of our existence. Your donation becomes a catalyst for positive change and contributes to the promotion of a more harmonious relationship between humanity and the environment, fostering a mindset that values healthy relationships between one another and the larger community of life. This shift in perspective has the potential to inspire sustainable practices, innovative solutions, and a collective responsibility toward environmental stewardship. We can only do this work together.
Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.
