Los Angeles, California
The Wind
I listen to the wind,
to the wind of my soul.
Where I'll end up, well,
I think only God really knows.
I've sat upon the setting sun,
But never, never, never, never,
I never wanted water once.
No never, never, never.
I listen to my words,
But they fall far below.
I let my music take me
Where my heart wants to go.
I've swam upon the devil's lake,
But never, never, never, never,
I'll never make the same mistake.
No, never, never, never.
Cat Stevens
Here is what I think I know about the Brit musician, Cat Stevens. He arrived on the scene when I was in my teens, around the same time as Elton John. The music on his album, Tea for the Tillerman was gentle, poetic, and profound. He sang Peace Train which was something we were clamoring for during the years of the horrific war in Vietnam. He experienced a near-drowning when swimming in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Malibu, here in Los Angeles County. And, after searching through philosophical and faith-based reasons for being, that near-death experience led him to faith in Islam. And here I confess that I am not knowledgeable about the Islamic faith. I am, unfortunately, more knowledgeable about Islamic terrorists. I know more about the Christian faith (and also about Christian Nationalist terrorists).
For a time, he changed his name to Yusuf Islam, and stopped performing his Cat Stevens songbook after a misinterpretation led him to think the Koran prohibited it. He went about the world with his music, suffering a lot of discrimination and persecution for it. After 9/11 media jocks smashed his records which was silly, and at one point, after 9/11, he was refused entry to the US as he, with his gentle poetic music, was considered to be a threat, which is embarrassing. But he also made some controversial comments regarding the Salman Rushdie fatwa, which he has since walked back. He modified his name to Yusuf/Cat Stevens, and after two decades he returned to making secular music once again and in 2014 he accepted induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But I digress ... So, what does this post have to do with Cat Stevens?
At some point in our young lives, we might have been told not to talk about politics, religion, nor sex. But I imagine that if you drew a pie chart of adult human interest, those topics would take up a significant portion of the whole. And, all three topics certainly take up a lot of the discussions I have with Joel and with my girlfriends. My last post was political. Now, in for a penny; in for a pound as the Brits say, I turn again to the subject of faith. My faith. The faith that I prayed for after early experiences in a variety of church dominations failed to ignite any sense of faith. And then faith came and I felt my prayers were answered. As a result, prayer became important to me.
I think of that faith as a gift in several ways. I think Sandra, namesake of this blog, had something to do with it. Maybe she too prayed that I would find faith. Or maybe attending Mass with her opened a door to an experience for which I had longed for many years. My connection to my faith is deep and so complicated that I can't adequately address it here. But I know what it is because I feel it. And, as I wrote in a recent post, quoting William Temple, who was the Archbishop of Canterbury during World War II: When I pray, coincidences happen. When I don't, they don't.
I attended Mass this month for the first time this year. Mostly I stayed away because of Covid; first the numbers then my own. Then we entered into the Easter period of the liturgical calendar, so I waited that out. I brought a lot of concerns with me to Mass that Sunday. Some of it was regarding my community of friendships, both new and old, connected and disconnected. But more important was my prayer for reassurance of my own faith path. Was I on the right track? Should I make a commitment to Catholicism in spite of all of the problems I had with its politics and dogma? Were my feelings about the importance of ecumenicalism valid? My prayers and questions crystalized into one big ask of God: Let me know that my faith as I perceive it is real and right. Give me a sign. It was a profound experience for me, kneeling in the beautiful church where I attend Mass, asking God for something this big and just for myself.
Mass ended at noon and I walked a block to where my car was parked. It had been cloudy when I walked into church, but now the sun was shining; the morning opening to a pretty afternoon. But, that's not a sign. And then, I got into my car and as I started it up, a song came on. I usually listen to NPR, but I had put music on as I drove to Mass, not wanting to hear chatter. I have around 1500 songs in my iTunes library and it was set on random play. And the first song that came up was The Wind by Cat Stevens.
I listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul, Where I end up, well, I think God only knows. I hadn’t needed to find faith, but it was provided. I hadn’t needed to feel a connection to Mass, but it was provided. I could follow a prescribed path of religion, but the rightness of my own path was provided. I immediately felt reassurance, comfort and JOY. It is a beautiful song but one of only three Cat Stevens' songs in that large playlist. Later I remembered that once, when I had just begun attending Mass at the Carmel Mission Basilica, we had sung the hymn set to the tune of Cat Stevens' song Morning Has Broken. One more connection.
My best ex-friend (I used to call her my ex-best friend but we have reconnected) called me that afternoon and I told her about the epiphany I had experienced. She is a therapist and the subtext of many of our conversations is grounded in psychology. But she agreed that this was a sign. And maybe it was or wasn't. It doesn't matter, because faith isn't found in what we are told to believe but rather in the connection we feel to our belief in a higher power. I don't usually lean into faith more than the other support conduits I have in my life. I strive for balance. But there was a joyful imbalance in this experience that day, and in the days since. While I would never choose bad religion over good psychology, this experience underscored the power of prayer and the personal reaffirmation of faith. And listening to the wind of my soul will continue to be a gift going forward.
Post Script: After I wrote this post I saw and enjoyed the film Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. Can you guess what song covered the credit roll? Yes, The Wind by Cat Stevens.
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