A commenter on YouTube: “This totally takes me back to my Ayahuasca trip.”
I’m not courageous enough for Ayahuasca, but I remember some dark nights in the ‘60s, and it doesn’t matter if Ayahuasca is a great improvement over psychedelics — this is a consciousness-expanding trip I’m never going to take. But music that opens my heart? Shows me the essential beauty of life? I’m so there.
A friend sent a video. It starts with birds. Acoustic guitar. And then a voice, clear and calming.
When the song ended, I wanted to hear more. And to know Danit Treubig’s story. The music is easier to find; most of what she’s recorded is on YouTube. But the information about her is sparse. ( I wrote to her. No answer. I imagine she has better, deeper things to do.) If you know her or know if she ever performs within 100 miles of Manhattan, please let me know. Meanwhile, I found this:
Western European musicians Nick Barbachano and Danit Treubig followed individual paths that immersed them in indigenous traditional healing cultures in North and South America. Their lives and music are an expression of the people they have connected within these cultures and what they have gained in vision and gratitude for life. They travel around the world performing traditional ceremonial music and also their own songs, to perpetuate traditional healing ceremonies.
In her only statement on the Internet, Danit writes:
My music is above all inspired by Nature. These songs are an expression of love and gratitude for mother earth, all the magical plants and animals that live within her beauty, and the elements that make life possible. The music is an invitation to connect with that mysterious place of prayer, where the chaotic movements of thought settle into simple gratitude for life and this ever present moment.
She’s not on Amazon. There’s one CD, and it’s not cheap; if this music speaks to your soul, it’s a bargain. Click here. Or you may just want to bookmark this review and return when it seems like the only music you can stand to hear. For me, that’s early morning and late night, and any time when the day or the world seems a bit much — or, more to the point, when I want to connect to my best self.
(for Karen M.)
This article originally appeared on The Head Butler.
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