.JPG)
The
Yahrzeit of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov is the fourth day of the week of the
festival of Sukkos (Chai Tishrei).
_____
However successful we may be (or appear to be)- there are always times when we fail to do what we aspire to do. We often fail to approach “perfection” let alone attain it. We may also fail because we do not have the abilities or skills we wish we had.
But failure and disability are not always what they seem and if we have done our very best in the spiritual life, it really is not just “second best”.
In the contemplative life, our intention and our effort are more important than all else. Being able to see the potential of whatever we are blessed with (and making the best use of it) is the greatest gift we can be given.
One of the favourite expressions of Rabbi Nachman of Breslov was “I will sing to G-d with the little I have left”. It is actually a psalm text (Psalm 146:2). You can read his interpretation of that text in Likutei Moharan 1:282.
I
am not qualified to make comment on his exposition there— but
I can tell you what the phrase meant to me at the turn of the
millennium: I had, just then, finally begun to realise that my
encroaching deafness meant that I could no longer function as a performing and teaching musician.
I
had been a school music teacher for over twenty years and that realisation took
some getting used to. It actually took me four years, but I am well over it now
and see the whole development as Providential— for if it had not happened I
might not have been quite so compelled to listen to the Still, Small
Voice in contemplative prayer.
The
song I needed to sing was an internal one. We all have such a song written in
the notation of our genes--and each person has their own melody—though it can
often take an entire lifetime to discover it.
At
that time, the shock of becoming deaf helped me to become aware that the
"little time I had left" was diminishing rapidly, and that I had been
given a wake-up call to make good use of it.
As an expression of this realisation in teshuvah, I resurrected an old composition I had written setting the text of Azamra in conjunction with a poem written by "Motele", an eight year old Jewish child during the Holocaust.
As an expression of this realisation in teshuvah, I resurrected an old composition I had written setting the text of Azamra in conjunction with a poem written by "Motele", an eight year old Jewish child during the Holocaust.
"From tomorrow on I'll be sad, not today.Though stormy winds may blow today,Tomorrow's sun may drive them all away. And every day,no matter how bitter, I will say:From tomorrow on I'll be sad, not today."
--------------------------
Here then is the musical score:
- To see each page clearly you will need to click on each separate page in turn.- Click on each page to open them in a new window.- Click again to enlarge to full size..
(Notes: The musical reference to the klezmer song “Spieltshe mir a liedele” is deliberate. The work has yet to be performed:- I am totally flexible with regard to instrumentation, but would always recommend that the melody is sung by a child and not an adult. Metronome marks are just guidelines and may be over-ridden.)
Azamra
l’Elohai b’odi
(I will sing to G-d with the little I have left)
(I will sing to G-d with the little I have left)
At those
times when we are examining our response to the Divine call to
contemplative prayer, “The little we have left” may refer to the years of
life we have but it may also refer to our “abilities” in prayer or to the
amount of time in a day or week or month that we are able to devote to
developing an intimate relationship with Hashem in hisbodedus and hisbonenus.
To
overcome any lack of fervour in our lives of dedication we should dig deep to
awaken and raise up even the smallest , dormant spark of devotion which might
lie buried in the lower reaches of our soul. Such sparks can be roused and
fanned into a blaze of life if we are prepared to make the effort.
We can
beat back laziness, anxiety, and ingratitude by declaring “Azamra!”--however
short our prayer sessions, however rare our retreats in solitude, however
wrapped up in our families, or jobs, or secular studies we may be--what matters
most is not the quantity of our contemplative actions and practices, but
the dedicated and contemplative quality
of our lives themselves. G-d sees the heart.
V’taheir
libeinu l’ovdecha be’emes.
O, purify
our hearts that we may truly serve You.
Nachman Davies
Oct 8 2017
Oct 8 2017
