Classical Music with Shining Eyes

[Kathy Gann]

I'd like to share a phenomenal video with you, but I think it's worth discussing too, so rather than just posting it in the videos, I'm embedding it in this blog. Benjamin Zander is the Conductor of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra. He also teaches leadership skills (it makes sense that a conductor would know a thing or two about leadership), and I'm convinced that every theosophist needs leadership skills. Every day of our lives, we are leading by example. What does it look like to LIVE the wisdom rather than just study it? When we show what it looks like, we're leaders in a world that's hungry for authentic inspiration. Along the way in this video, Benjamin illustrates classic wisdom teachings so effortlessly, we hardly know we're learning. And he plays exquisite Chopin, too.

He begins with the potential of positive thought, and tells the story of two shoe salesmen sent to Africa in the early 1900's. Surveying the same situation (that nobody was wearing shoes), one reported back “situation hopeless;” the other reported “glorious opportunity!” From there, we launch into a lesson on what the Buddhists call “joyous effort” or “enthusiastic perseverence,” the Virya Paramita. I believe Clara Codd called this one “wholeheartedness.” If you're going to do a thing, give it all you've got. Benjamin imagines Martin Luther King wavering in his conviction: “I have a dream! . . . of course I'm not sure they'll be up to it . . . “ Instead of a recent campaign slogan of “Yes we can!” what if the slogan had been “Statistically speaking, there's a favorable chance I suppose, though I can't really be sure . . . “ Wholeheartedness makes a difference.

Benjamin says, “One of the characteristics of a leader is that he does not doubt for one moment the capacity of the people he's leading to realize whatever he's dreaming.” Chew on that one a moment. Can I lead, even by example, if I don't believe wholeheartedly in what I'm conveying? Can we teach theosophy without Virya Paramita? I think not—I think it demands a wholehearted, joyous effort.

In Benjamin's case, this means playing Chopin with only one buttock. Excuse me?? Well, you'll see what that means in the video, but I think what he's saying is that he doesn't play the music—the music plays him. Athletes call this “being in the zone,” and they're so absorbed that they're illustrating the Buddhist “Dhyana Paramita,” or perfection of concentration.

Speaking of perfect concentration, remember the much-dreaded monkey mind that visits our meditations? Benjamin thinks the monkey visits when we listen to classical music, too. But we can make it go away by listening to the music with our astral and mental bodies in addition to our physical ears (by holding in our minds and hearts someone dear who has died). Try this, and Benjamin says we'll “hear everything Chopin had to say.” This worked for a class of 12 year olds, and for street teens in Ireland, so there's a good chance it will work for us too. You see, in spite of statistics showing that only 3% of the population loves classical music, Benjamin figures that “everybody loves classical music—they just haven't found out about it yet!” Wait a minute . . . could that be true of theosophy too? What if . . . ?

In “At the Feet of the Master,” we learn care of speech. If it isn't true, kind, or useful, don't say it. Benjamin tells the story of a girl who learned this the hard way after scolding her little brother for losing his shoes. They'd lost their parents and were on a train, headed for Auschwitz during the holocaust. It was the last thing she had the chance to say to him. May we never have to learn this one the hard way.

On Benjamin's website, he says “The leader is the relentless architect of the possibility that others can be.” What a phrase! When we live, I mean truly LIVE the wisdom, are we building “the possibility that others can be?” If we build it, will they come? The Mahatmas have built into their very being the possibility that we can become. When we do our best to do the same, who benefits most—us or the people who observe our example? It's a toss-up, isn't it?

Last but certainly not least, when we're teaching theosophy, how do we know if we're really connecting with our audience? Benjamin says we're doing it if they have “shining eyes.” We're truly connecting with our children, friends, relatives, co-workers . . . if they have shining eyes. If this isn't happening, then “who are we being that their eyes aren't shining?” This one's worth chewing on too. Benjamin defines success as being “about how many shining eyes are around me.” Watch this video, and there will be one more set of shining eyes in the world.

[Sherry Clayton-Park]

Hello Kathy,
Thanks for sharing Benjamin..with his wit humour fun laughter and wisdom he plays exquisite chopin too...Shining Eyes ....are the Mirror of the SOUL....
Sherry TS Queensland Australia

[Murray Stentiford]

Hi Kathy. Thank you for putting this up. I've played this piece and was enthralled with his lovely exposition.
It is utterly relevant to the Theosophical Society to hold ourselves to the measure of success as being “about how many shining eyes are around me.” Inspiration shared, and mutually catching....
With sparkles - Murray

[Kathy Gann]

Hi Glenda, I don't know why it's showing up blank, but you could see it by opening up a new browser window, paste this URL in, and go there directly: http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/benjamin_zander_on_music_and_passion.html

Hope that works,
Kathy