The song is constantly changing. Never completely different but never entirely the same. The song constantly finds new ways to express itself. Discovering new pathways of sound through the confusion of life. Pathways that are clearer by far than anything I have ever known. I would not want it to be any other way. If the tone is sharp or flat relative to some artificial standard – what do I care.

How boring to be trying to be always the same. Let freedom ring and come out of the Native American style flute and reach every crevice of conventionality. Playing the song because it’s there to be done. Not measuring or judging according to some external yardstick. Knowing that every note is enough in all places and at all times. My song unique. And your song as well. Gently blowing forth notes into the unknown. Not expecting to hear it again – perhaps ever. Letting life unfold and music go out into it. Becoming part of the grand symphony of the Universe unfolding and discovering itself. And always finding itself to be good, sufficient, whole and happy. The music is saying that in spite of every dark cloud and feeling of pain there is I – the music – I heal all discomfort.

I play for the desert birds as they wake in the morning. I hear their reply. They are the great, indefatigable singers. My song joins theirs. The song that has been playing as long as there has been air to carry the sound.

Sunday in the morning. Two days after dead of Winter full moon. The Sun circle has turned. The Earth is coming back again out of the darkness of the once was and into the light of a new year. Night is waneing and Day is waxing. May this year bring blessing to all the Brothers and Sisters. May it bring Peace on Earth and good will towards all men. May our enemies become our friends. And may light and healing flow out through our music to a waiting world.