This essay is part of my Wayfinder Series about people, art works, and events that can help us find our way in these lost times.
I am a therapist and a writer, happily immersed in both pursuits. What a refreshing vacation to shift from private dialogues and solitary typing to a massive collective endeavor. I leave my computer and busy brain behind and surrender, washed over with notes and feelings as each work evolves.
Regardless of great professional success, I’m repeatedly struck that there are no posturing egos in sight, no hierarchical divisions. During every event, I witness collaboration, mutual respect and expression of gratitude – the best of what is collectively possible between humans. It gives me hope that maybe our daily interactions and political arena could learn to follow suit.
On the final weekend performances, it was with both excitement and a tinge of sadness that my now expanded cadre of festival friends sat in our seats for the final weekend performances, knowing each culmination contained an ending. As Cristi lowered his baton each night, the auditorium walls were barely able to contain the exuberant applause and cheering. A true love fest.
This year I deepened my “vows.” A week after the musicians have packed up and gone back to their orchestras all over the world, the local radio station KALW broadcasted the four nights. For the first time in my six years of increasing involvement, I sat in my darkened living room, volume turned high, and listened all over again. I was ecstatically drenched in now familiar musical scores and sensory memories.
Only forty-six weeks until it all begins once more.
Marilyn DuHamel is a psychotherapist and writer living in the beautiful Santa Cruz Mountains. Besides exploring her fascination with the creative process, she often writes out of her love and concern for the natural world. You can read more of her work on her blog, Earth Dialogues, at marilynduhamel.com
Have a piece of your own writing or Festival-inspired work you would like to share? Let us know!