One of the benefits of living in Norway: Arvo Pärt concerts.

One line is my sins, and another line is forgiveness for these sins. Mostly the music has two vocies. One is more complicated and subjective, but another is very simple, clear, and objective.
- Arvo Pärt, interviewed by Björk. 

A beautiful description of who and what we are. As who we are, this human self, we are complicated and subjective. We are conditioned in a particular way, experience life through our own set of filters. As what we are, we are simple, clear, objective. Either one is beautiful, and the real beauty comes from both together, from one existing within the context of the other. 

As a human self, I sin. I make mistakes. I am confused. I am not aware of the impact of my actions in the world. 

As what I am, there is already forgiveness. 

And all of that is reflected in Arvo Pärt’s music, in a beautiful way.

The first part of an Arvo Pärt documentary.

During the initial diksha, empty light dropped into my body and stayed there, as present and clear now as then. During the Enlovenment diksha last weekend, full darkness dropped into the body, and seems as stable as the empty light. There is a beautiful symmetry there, as with so much else.

I have been drawn to Arvo Pärt’s music again for the last week or so. It seems that the fertile void and the empty light are both there in his music, the velvety blackness and the clear luminosity.

For me, this is most clearly expressed in Passio, Misrere, Te Deum, Arbos and Tabula Rasa (the ECM recordings.)

And this is also a reminder of how deeply I was into this during the initial awakening (into the luminosity and the fertile void, during my time in Norway, immersed in Pärt’s music, in Orthodox music in general, being a student of Odd Nerdrum, and much more that all combine this sense of black and full earthiness with luminosity and clarity.)

It may be that this is not so new after all. One of the main differences is that then, it all came at once, and now, it comes spaced out more. Then, it just happened, out of the blue, all at once, with a great deal of intensity, and a sense of it being remarkable. Now, it comes in a different way, more spaced out, with less intensity, and as less remarkable.

As with just about anything else, my draw to food, movies and music goes through the usual fractal cycles (longer cycles over years, seasons, months and weeks, with short cycles overlaid going over weeks, days and hours).

So my music listening goes from 60s lounge to baroque (Bach, Marin Marais) to world (Mari Boine, Carlos Nakai, Hun Huur Tu, Yossou N’Dour), to renaissance (Palestrina, Victoria) to pop (Sting, Kate Bush, Stereolab) to religious (Rachmaninov’s Vesper, Sister Marie Keyrouz, Russian Orthodox) to folk music (Agnes Buen Garnås) to contemporary (Jan Garbarek, Philip Glass, Meredith Monk, Arvo Pärt) to romatic (Shubert) to other genres.

Music as prayer

This weekend, I got into an Arvo Pärt phase, and am reminded of music as prayer.

His compositions, such as Passio, Arbos, Tablua Rasa, Te Deum and others, are prayer in the form of music, and they resonate with and awaken prayer in the (receptive) listener. Wherever our center of gravity is, the music closely mirrors, reflects and awakens our relation with Spirit as a Thou.

For me, listening to Pärt brings me right into the deep, full, rich and all-pervading sense of mystery, awe, unspeakable beauty, longing, pain, passion, joy, bliss, and disappearing of any separate I as any heart-centered and deeply felt prayer do, such as the heart prayer and Christ meditation.

While our center of gravity is still in a segment of the totality, prayer in any form - including music, can help us shift out of it and taste selflessness.

And after the awakening to selflessness, prayer and music can awaken the same sense of awe, beauty, longing, pain, joy and bliss, and work in and throughout our human self, allowing it to mature, deepen, become even more of a vehicle for Spirit-awake-to-itself in the world of phenomena.