A friend of mine died this week, and I'm planning on going up to the mountain, near the river, to do a little musical ritual in honor of his passing. It's got me thinking of music and death, and so I'm gonna start writing on the topic and see what happens.

I'm good at death. I've said it many times, and maybe I'm wrong. I've heard that denial is the first stage in grief, and so maybe I'm simply stuck on the first step, but I believe in a sort of after-life that is better in some ways, not as good in other ways, when compared to this kind of earthly presence in flesh and blood.

So, when I go up to share some music with my friend at the riverside, I believe he will be there, that his voice will be part of the voice of the river, and the birds, and the trees, and that he will both hear my contribution and feel my emotions. So, in that sense, what a lovely opportunity to share music with my friend.

And while I'm there I will also sing to my father, and my grandparents. Not because we are connected by blood, but because of our spiritual connections which transcend the boundary of life and death. I believe that my father is right here with me as I'm writing this, and that he is with my sister as well, whatever she is doing, at the same time. This is, I believe, one of the advantages of the afterlife, an ability to spread one's presence to different areas at the same time.

When my dad died, we had a party for him that went on for a couple of days. There was a piano there, and my brother in law brought his guitar for me to play, and I brought my flute. I shared my music with the party, and as part of that practice, I shared my music with my dad, and in another sense, I collaborated with my dad's spirit to share our music with the guests.

As such, music not only helps me transcend the boundaries between life and death directly with my soul, but also it facilitates the transcendence of the souls from the other side to mingle with those on this side.

Similarly, when I go up to the mountain, and my audience is birds, trees, and the river, I am helping my loved ones connect with the natural peace and beauty of the scene. I am helping them connect with the quiet growth of the trees, the busy work of the birds, and the constant flow of the water that connects all earthly processes. I am helping them connect with the flow of each water molecule to every inch of sky, earth, and sea while I connect all this flow with my own soul as well. It's a gesture of unified presence, and I do not ignore the celestial spheres in my unifying rituals. The planets have their music, too, and their dance among the stars, and this rock keeps spinning, and music is always everywhere all at once.

When I play, I'm guiding a bit of the stream, and when I share it, I'm splashing a bit to my fellows. And I'm so honored to have people whom I love on the great journey who are able to swing by and listen, and to bring it forward in the other realm, sharing the fruits of transcendent love across the universe, and into the fragile lives of their beloved.

Peace.