Penderecki, Wine and the Tao

I should spend my first post back from California telling you how exciting it was, how I was sick at first and managed to get well quickly, how I woke up one day only a few minutes from the beach, how I woke up another day in the backseat of a car, how I won $12 in Vegas, or how I survived a mild collision with one of the larger mammals of the North American continent. Instead I will tell you about this week, and how it relates to a 20th century Polish composer, fine spirits and the teachings of Lao Tse.

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An old family friend named John makes wine. He is Italian, so I suppose it is in his blood. Now when John makes wine, he doesn’t do it in the way that most people make wine today. People today have a lot of accessories that they use in the wine making process; various devices that measure temperature, alcohol content, and whatnot. John uses none of these things. He simply ferments fruit juice and yeast in a carboy for a while, filters out the bad stuff at the end and, voila, its wine. In fact, I go so far as to say that it is downright excellent wine.

Most wine makers, especially home wine makers, get so caught up in making a particular style of wine and getting it perfect. I find that they are ultimately disappointed. The entire process has so many variables that it is almost impossible to get everything right. They often fail because their expectations are too high, and their goal too specific. If they just went for something less specific, they’d succeed almost every time.

This is very much like how I try to live my life. I try not to set too many specific goals, and I try not to force my life to follow a path of my choosing. I wander through life, take what comes my way, and I am often surprised at the results.

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I was awakened early on Tuesday morning by my boss at the bakery. He had forgotten to tell me that they needed me to work that day and he was calling to ask if I would be able to come in to work in about an hour. I said yes, of course, and dragged myself out of bed. Work was fine, though I was a bit groggy. As a pulled into the satellite bakery on my first delivery of the day, I got a phone call. I usually either turn my phone off or put it on silent so I don’t have to worry about being disturbed at work. I pulled my phone out and canceled the call, but not before noticing that it was the director of the local community symphony. This was not anything particularly special. I do a radio program with him on Sundays, and he also directs the local university symphony which I play with occasionally.

I finished my delivery and listened to the message on my way back to the main store. Apparently, one of the bassists for the community symphony was injured in a car accident and was unable to play the concert on Saturday. Normally this would not be too much of a problem, since there are a number of bassists in the symphony, and missing one would not be critical. The only problem is that the symphony is playing a piece by Penderecki called “Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima” and it requires 52 individual string parts, 8 unique ones for the bass alone! With one bassist missing, the piece simply would not work! The spot was offered to me, as long as I was available for the concert and the rehearsals.

I called back almost immediately and accepted! Somehow, without an audition and without even really trying, I was called to sit 3rd chair in the symphony that I grew up listening to and play one of the greatest works of the 20th century.

When you let life come to you and take whatever opportunities come your way, your life will always be fulfilling, and never boring. Flexibility and patience are the keys to happiness.

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AGAINST TRUSTING IN STRENGTH

Man is born gentle and supple.
At death, his body is brittle and hard.
Living plants are tender,
and filled with life-giving sap,
but at their death they are withered and dry.
The stiff, the hard, and brittle
are harbingers of death,
and gentleness and yielding
are the signs of that which lives.
The warrior who is inflexible
condemns himself to death,
and the tree is easily broken,
which ever refuses to yield.
Thus the hard and brittle will surely fall,
and the soft and supple will overcome.

Lao Tse, “Tao Te Ching”