“To be human, to be fully human, is to need music and to derive nourishment from the music you hear. What you do with our instruments helps us to be more human too, and I want to thank you all for that.” - Bob Moog
Control is a word that makes me turn away, makes me delete, makes me bristle. It is a weakness of mine I don't want to control and I certainly have no desire to be controlled. Except not-so-secretly I still am particular and picky and refuse help, especially in the kitchen. (Hello controlling pot calling the kettle bossy!!!) I desperately seek out teachers that can let me let my control guard down. When foundational work is established my fear wall crumbles and trust is revealed.
My relationship with control in my asana practice is like a knob on a moog synthesizer. Each knob dials a sound wave into one shape or another. Too far one way and it's crunchy too far another way it's so soft as to be barely distinguishable. How much do we pitch, how much do we bend, how much do we flutter and bounce, how much do we drone? It can be a mess or it can be a tuned instrument. Once you've established some control over the instrument and mastered your practice then is the time to allowing. The balance of control and allowing is the alchemy that brings forth the transcendent, the composition that is speechless and priceless.
In preparing for this writing, I stumbled across Steve Albini giving a tour of his recording studio (he recorded Nirvana's last album). He took the crew downstairs where every single wire that connects to his studio consoles converged. "Literally millions of wires" each connection with three functions. Hot, cold, and ground. Yin, Yang, and the ground of being.
Turn your knobs, tune your instrument, make music on planet earth.