One night, Michael Zeligs went with a friend to a spiritual gathering and performance. It consisted of a single highly advanced individual leading the group in songs and workshops for heart opening and healing.
A few hours later, when Michael returned home, he was completely freaked out. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sit still. He was upset in ways he couldn’t put his finger on. He got up and turned on his computer. In the morning, I found the following transcript:
The reason I'm resistant is because he’s obviously crafted the perfect package: A kind of performance that could be called a house concert, but really which was a sermon, ceremony and musical meditation. All of which was simple the stage upon which to talk about his products.
He had quite a few. He had a book that he'd written. He had six different CD's, and he played a song off of each one, even though the transitions were super abrupt. The songs weren't even that good. They just featured an uncommon instrument from an obscure origin. CD's were themed for meditation and yoga, love, and how to embody love: different, spiritual meme-based titles.
He had drums and African harps for sale. He had an exclusive 10 day retreat in Hawaii for sale. “Retail is where most of our profits come from,” he told us, flat out. “So even though you were asked to pay $5-$20 at the door, what would really help us out would be if you wanted to buy something. We take credit cards.”
The advantage of selling these kinds of products is that he was able to contextualize himself within people's super awesome spiritual experiences: whether they get a healing while listening to his "music for massage" CD, or if they have an epiphany during the drum circle which follows the short sales pitch / concert, the goal is ultimately to associate in his listeners’ minds that cathartic feeling of healing/release with him as a musician, a teacher, and a leader.
The ceremony is punctuated with fairly authentic and heartfelt prayers for release and the good of the world. The freaky thing is that what he is teaching is actually effective for moving energy. That way the god thing comes in...it actually works.
People leave having really enjoyed themselves, having healed, learned a lot and heard some eloquent aphorisms. Not only do they buy things, take cards, and sign in on the mailing list, but they are also so inspired by the healing and intimacy they have experienced that they want to tell their friends about it. They want to come to another show and get sold to again in exchange for the healing group experience.
This is a process that involves power in curious ways, it leverages upon the white spiritual kids who are well educated and have parents with money. These kids have spent a lot of time in ashrams and they are fairly used to the concept of gurus and strict rules, so they are more easily drawn in to becoming a follower of these smaller acts, of doing outrageous and helpful things in exchange for continuing to receive the experience.
The salesman musician books shows in conscious mid-twenties spiritual co-op houses, as well as urban ashram constituents of the big name gurus, as well as new hippy-style churches and yoga studios. People in this environment are used to being sold to within the context of spiritual experiences. The turnaround on CD sales and purchases is much higher...
There the transcript breaks off as he must have gone to bed. But contained within this fragment of unedited thought gushing is a small glimpse into what it is, how it works these days (or perhaps how it worked all along). The spiritual experience as a commodity. The New Age is defined not so much by a shift in consciousness, but a conscious shift in marketing. And we can see how effective it can be even when the product is mediocre at best. The guru musician can support himself, tour around and host retreats in soulful places like Hawaii, and feel like he’s bringing some good, some light into peoples’ lives. Is he wrong? That is the question I believe it poses: if his customers/followers leave feeling good and happy with their purchases, is he wrong?
(With much thanks to Michael Zeligs for his collaboration on this blog posting)
Showing posts with label Berkeley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Berkeley. Show all posts
Monday, February 13, 2012
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Letting Go
I realize now that perhaps one of the hardest things about the human condition is letting go of inflated conceptions of possibilities in order to just be who we are. Among the more condescending or elitist of us, it might be called “Accepting Mediocrity.” Among everybody else, let’s just call it “Accepting the Way Things Are.” Maybe it’s a radical idea. Maybe it’s no more and no less than what ancient philosophies and religions have been saying all along.
This thought has come from a strange experience out here in Oakland and Berkeley, California. I’ve been working with Michael Zeligs, who I grew up with in Boulder, trying to make videos and websites for clients, while also trying to kickstart his music career (one that began with the handicap of a vision requiring either that he go big or go home). Talking with him about his ideas of what could be and where he would like to go, I see clearly how I sit in much the same boat as him, except with regards to writing: we both feel drawn to our arts because we’ve always (ever since we were little kids) felt like we had some imperative to share a sort of message or vision, we both have seriously difficult times editing the work we’ve already created, and neither of us has seen a fraction of the success we always thought we would have enjoyed by the age of 24/25 (James, I’ve got my eye on you too on this count).
Talking with Michael about how that feels, and much more importantly, why it all seemed so important in the first place, I feel I’ve opened an interesting door into how some of this stuff works (and how I’ve personally changed in the last few years). I no longer have any illusions about “someday making it big.” Last week I published an op-ed article in the Daily Camera for which I was paid exactly nothing, and somehow I’m satisfied with that. It wasn’t the greatest article of all time (it was even referred to as “less than sophomoric” by one critic). It wasn’t a lot of things, but at the same time, it was a few significant things:
1. It was the best I could do at this point in my writing/thinking abilities (which may either be a sad thing or an encouraging thing, depending on your view of the article)
2. It was the most carefully edited piece I’ve put out into the world in a long time, which is a good sign for someone who never takes the time to edit (incidentally, I’m reading through this blog entry right now, editing it)
3. I voiced an opinion that was read by many, which was by no means original or even remotely unique, but it provided another voice in support of the worldview that I happen to endorse
4. After a long time of not writing, I wrote it, which means that I’m writing, which makes me happy
For the first time in recent memory, I feel completely OK being who I am and doing what I’m doing. This is radical for me. Usually I spend so much time focusing on what I’m not doing or who I have not yet become (and getting seriously down about it), that to do otherwise is refreshing in a way I can’t even begin to describe.
Who am I? I am a 24 year old male with certain talents who enjoys exercising them with limited success rates. I feel stronger than ever. Right now, at least, I simply don’t care where I’m going or what I’m doing, so long as I’m approaching it sincerely, with my eyes open. I’m engaging with my immediate circumstances and I’m letting every interaction be a test of my character. The world doesn’t give a shit about your rhetoric, all it cares about is your behavior and for the most part, all it really cares about is your most recent action. On that front, I’m happy. I’m doing well. I’ve brought my spirit and my mind to the circumstances I’ve found myself in and in a few specific cases, I’ve shined in ways that have genuinely surprised me. I feel great about that.
What do I want out of life? To empower myself in order to empower other. How am I going about that? Learning and exercising in order to be mentally and physically stronger. What will I do with that newfound strength? To paraphrase Maughm, I imagine if I ever get strong enough, I’ll have the necessary strength to know what to do with it. In the meantime, like I said at the end of the last paragraph, I’m feeling really great.
This thought has come from a strange experience out here in Oakland and Berkeley, California. I’ve been working with Michael Zeligs, who I grew up with in Boulder, trying to make videos and websites for clients, while also trying to kickstart his music career (one that began with the handicap of a vision requiring either that he go big or go home). Talking with him about his ideas of what could be and where he would like to go, I see clearly how I sit in much the same boat as him, except with regards to writing: we both feel drawn to our arts because we’ve always (ever since we were little kids) felt like we had some imperative to share a sort of message or vision, we both have seriously difficult times editing the work we’ve already created, and neither of us has seen a fraction of the success we always thought we would have enjoyed by the age of 24/25 (James, I’ve got my eye on you too on this count).
Talking with Michael about how that feels, and much more importantly, why it all seemed so important in the first place, I feel I’ve opened an interesting door into how some of this stuff works (and how I’ve personally changed in the last few years). I no longer have any illusions about “someday making it big.” Last week I published an op-ed article in the Daily Camera for which I was paid exactly nothing, and somehow I’m satisfied with that. It wasn’t the greatest article of all time (it was even referred to as “less than sophomoric” by one critic). It wasn’t a lot of things, but at the same time, it was a few significant things:
1. It was the best I could do at this point in my writing/thinking abilities (which may either be a sad thing or an encouraging thing, depending on your view of the article)
2. It was the most carefully edited piece I’ve put out into the world in a long time, which is a good sign for someone who never takes the time to edit (incidentally, I’m reading through this blog entry right now, editing it)
3. I voiced an opinion that was read by many, which was by no means original or even remotely unique, but it provided another voice in support of the worldview that I happen to endorse
4. After a long time of not writing, I wrote it, which means that I’m writing, which makes me happy
For the first time in recent memory, I feel completely OK being who I am and doing what I’m doing. This is radical for me. Usually I spend so much time focusing on what I’m not doing or who I have not yet become (and getting seriously down about it), that to do otherwise is refreshing in a way I can’t even begin to describe.
Who am I? I am a 24 year old male with certain talents who enjoys exercising them with limited success rates. I feel stronger than ever. Right now, at least, I simply don’t care where I’m going or what I’m doing, so long as I’m approaching it sincerely, with my eyes open. I’m engaging with my immediate circumstances and I’m letting every interaction be a test of my character. The world doesn’t give a shit about your rhetoric, all it cares about is your behavior and for the most part, all it really cares about is your most recent action. On that front, I’m happy. I’m doing well. I’ve brought my spirit and my mind to the circumstances I’ve found myself in and in a few specific cases, I’ve shined in ways that have genuinely surprised me. I feel great about that.
What do I want out of life? To empower myself in order to empower other. How am I going about that? Learning and exercising in order to be mentally and physically stronger. What will I do with that newfound strength? To paraphrase Maughm, I imagine if I ever get strong enough, I’ll have the necessary strength to know what to do with it. In the meantime, like I said at the end of the last paragraph, I’m feeling really great.
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