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Talking About Soul at TED

Posted December 5th, 2016 by Lesley Hazleton

Just posted on YouTube:  my TEDSummit talk on what we really talk about when we talk about soul.
This was in Banff, in June, and here it is, unedited.  Which I love, because you get to see it raw, gaffes and all:

And yes, of course, if the spirit takes you (as it were), share and pass it on!

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File under: agnosticism, existence, TED TALKS | Tagged: Tags: Aretha Franklin, Beethoven, breath, Descartes, life, lungs, Nina Simone, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, soul, spark, spirit, TEDSummit | Be the First to leave a comment

At The Recording Studio

Posted January 15th, 2016 by Lesley Hazleton

Many strange things happened this week, but this was one of the strangest.

I was in the middle of a two-day recording session for Agnostic: A Spirited Manifesto, experiencing the delight of reading my own work for the audio-book. Standing alone in a padded room, just me and the microphone a few inches from my mouth, I moved my arms – indeed my whole body — as I spoke, as though I could reach through the mike and draw the listener in.

At home, though, the resident feline was fading fast: Dashi, fourteen years old, a silver-grey tabby with blue eyes, a wide range of vocalization, and a personality ranging from ornery to enchanting. Early in the morning of the second day of recording, I realized there was no longer any doubt about what I had to do. Tears streaming, I called the vet, wrapped the cat in her favorite fleece blanket, and took her in.  She died cradled in my arms, barely thirty seconds after the final injection. It was hard, and awful, and yet right. She had a great life with me, and I saw her out of it as best I could. That, in itself, was a privilege.

“I should cancel the recording session,” I thought, but something in me said not to – that it would be good to lose myself for a few hours in total focus. By midday, I was back in the studio. “You are absolutely rocking it,” said the director, to whom I’d said nothing of what had happened. Then, with only the last chapter still to go (on what we mean what we talk about soul), I called a cigarette break and headed toward the door.

A man was leaving in front of me, and as he went through the door he kind of half-sang a “bye-bye” to everyone there. Something in me picked up on the lilt of it, and without even thinking, I began to sing “Bye Bye Blackbird.”

Here’s where I should say that I can’t sing. I mean, I’m no good at carrying a tune. I once took jazz lessons to try and deal with this, but enthusiasm without talent can only take you so far.

As I went out that door, however, I was singing perfectly. I could hear it: every note crystalline and pure. And I went on singing, my voice carrying through the rain on Seattle’s Fourth Avenue, the cigarette dangling unsmoked in my fingers as I let the song rise up into the grey sky, thinking all the while of Dashi.

And I knew as I sang that I’d never sing that beautifully again.

Dashi by Susie

 

(“Pack up all my care and woe, Here I go swingin’ low,  Bye bye blackbird / Where somebody waits for me,  Sugar’s sweet, so is she, Bye bye blackbird /No one here can love or understand me, Oh, what hard luck stories, they all hand me / Make my bed and light the light, I’ll be home late tonight, Blackbird bye bye.”)

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File under: agnosticism, existence | Tagged: Tags: Agnostic: A Spirited Manifesto, audio book, Bye Bye Blackbird, cat, death, singing, soul | 24 Comments
  1. Divya Debra Barter says:
    January 15, 2016 at 11:41 am

    Thank you for this beautiful story. I think I also will be able to walk on air when my “Dashi” leaves this world. Bye bye. Divya

    >

  2. Lerlen says:
    January 15, 2016 at 2:04 pm

    A beautiful story. I’m glad you could find solace in your work. Sorry for the loss of your cat

  3. dggraham says:
    January 15, 2016 at 2:07 pm

    What a wonderful tribute for a dear friend.

    Would that we could all be as fortunate.

  4. De Lise Frampton Hartzell says:
    January 15, 2016 at 2:39 pm

    I am so sorry for your loss. Every time I lose an animal, gratitude is mixed with profound sorrow. Sending you lots of love.

    Ps-love Bye Bye Blackbird!

  5. Gustav Hellthaler JR says:
    January 15, 2016 at 2:41 pm

    Sorry for your loss, I know how it feels. I lost my favorite hiking companion the same way last year. Gus

  6. Robin says:
    January 15, 2016 at 5:39 pm

    Uniquely Lovely ~ Thanks for sharing such an intimate and sanguine experience, Lesley.
    Your spirit and Dashi’s soared, awhile, entwined ~

  7. Anne says:
    January 15, 2016 at 6:52 pm

    Whether the loss is cat, dog, horse, another critter, (or even some humans), it is terrible, so sad, and yet so beautiful. Sorry for the loss of your friend.

  8. lynnrosengiordano says:
    January 15, 2016 at 10:34 pm

    So sweet, so sweet. I remember Dashi well. Always will be with you, no question.

  9. Guy de la Rupelle says:
    January 16, 2016 at 12:15 am

    So beautiful. Thank you for sharing what must have been very private moments….and feelings.

  10. Sableyes says:
    January 16, 2016 at 2:44 am

    Hugs.

  11. Aterah says:
    January 16, 2016 at 5:24 am

    Sorry for your loss. Sounds like you had a real bond. And that’s a beautiful pic of Dashi. May her little soul rest in peace.

  12. Robert Ketterman says:
    January 16, 2016 at 10:51 am

    Sorry for your loss…releasing a loved pet companion is so very difficult. But Dashi gave you the voice to sing as a thank you for the Life well-lived! Namaste, Amen!

  13. Tea-mahm says:
    January 17, 2016 at 10:25 pm

    How very sad and beautiful, Lesley. From Annemarie Schimmel: remembering the Prophet’s fondness for cats, one Turkish saying is, “One who loves cats has strong faith.” Given your recent book, that has me smiling! Save questioning for religion and non-furry things like that… love and faith— for Dashi. Tamam

  14. Angel says:
    January 18, 2016 at 4:35 pm

    Big tears and so much love.

  15. Charlotte Heckscher says:
    January 19, 2016 at 6:02 am

    Beautiful and so moving. xx

  16. chakaoc says:
    January 19, 2016 at 11:30 pm

    Lesley – sorry to hear about Dashi…hail the seen and unseen companions in our lives.
    Casey

  17. Lesley Hazleton says:
    January 27, 2016 at 2:51 pm

    Thank you all so much. Am still surprised by how deeply embedded she was in my life. She lived well, and I miss her well. — L.

  18. Faruque says:
    February 3, 2016 at 6:16 pm

    Please try and stop smoking… I just started reading and hearing your stuff…we need more of you in this world…

    • Lesley Hazleton says:
      February 3, 2016 at 7:06 pm

      Too late, Faruque! I’ve given myself permission to stop trying to stop!

  19. Faruque says:
    February 5, 2016 at 9:05 am

    Sorry, I correct myself, her name was Maria or Mariyah. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_al-Qibtiyya.
    The reason I think it is of relevance is that this would contradict the assertion that he became impotent later in life, and hence no children with his wives after Khadija.

    • Lesley Hazleton says:
      February 5, 2016 at 10:19 am

      Re Maria and Ibrahim, may I suggest reading more than a sample chapter?!

  20. Lesley Hazleton says:
    February 5, 2016 at 10:18 am

    Right: youngest daughter.

    • Faruque says:
      February 6, 2016 at 9:34 am

      Hi Lesley, I realise this is not the place, but just for closure, as well as the way this thread started on why we still need more of you in this world, thanks for mentioning Mariya on page 10 of ‘After the Prophet..’ (not included in the ‘sample’ Amazon book).

      As you report, it isn’t clear if this story is true. But there is a story I read somewhere about how he just reached and held the 17 month old Ibrahim in his arms, and as he died, he let out a cry and a prayer that witnesses said could ‘render the heavens’ with tears. I don’t know if this could qualify as one of those ‘moments’ you look for in a story, which is so unbelievable that it’s probably true.

      Please keep writing and exploring the way you do. We will always need truth seekers in this world!

      best
      Faruque

  21. Faruque says:
    February 5, 2016 at 10:24 am

    Oh, and I did not mean you asserted his impotency, but many Sunni authors did apparently do so over time, …

Coming In The New Year!

Posted December 31st, 2015 by Lesley Hazleton

April 5, 2016 publication.  Riverhead Books.
And already available for pre-order here, here, and here!

ag final cover

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File under: agnosticism, existence, light, sanity | Tagged: Tags: Agnostic: A Spirited Manifesto, agnosticism, belief, doubt, faith, infinity, life, meaning, mystery, soul | 2 Comments
  1. Nuzhat says:
    December 31, 2015 at 7:16 pm

    Countdown has begun for the opening of this Pandora’s box of ‘revelation’….pun intended! It’s high, as well as the right time to understand this ‘hazy to the world’ scripture….excited!!
    All the best Lesley. Reviews are making it more enthusing….
    Nuzhat.

    • Lesley Hazleton says:
      January 1, 2016 at 7:27 pm

      Good puns always make me smile! Thanks, Nuzhat.

Soul Food

Posted April 7th, 2015 by Lesley Hazleton

sureya2The luxury of finishing a book: you can meet a friend for lunch. That’s what I did last week at a homey Turkish restaurant near where I live. It began life as a rug shop, but since Sureya, the proprietor, loves to cook, she started serving food among the rugs. People turned out to love her cooking in return — I’ve taken Turkish friends from out of town there, and they practically wept with home-sickness – so the rugs retreated to a small pile at the back of the room. Plain wooden tables and chairs multiplied, and the news spread.

Last week was a normal mix for this place: a pink-haired student with Gothic script tattooed on her bare shoulders; a couple of hijabi mothers with babies; plaid-shirt-and-chinos software types; even a suit or two.

My friend and I ordered lentil soup and some eggplant dishes, and when Sureya brought them over she told us about her plans to move to a larger space nearby. The color scheme would have lots of turquoise, she said, and she was already haunting eBay in search of beautiful plates to replace the plain white ones we were using.

Maybe there’s something about Sureya that calls forth truth, or maybe I was still light-headed with having finished the book, but I said “Um, Sureya, you know, people tend to get light-fingered around beautiful plates…” And I found myself telling her about the time, many years ago, when I was out with a few friends in New York, at an Italian restaurant that the waiter told us was due to close soon. I don’t remember how many bottles of wine we’d drunk, but it must have been a few, because by the end of the evening, it seemed an awful pity that this restaurant’s hand-painted ceramic plates were to disappear along with the place itself, which is why several of them were somehow transferred into purses, jackets, and trousers — including those of an assistant district attorney from a major American city I won’t name here.

My friend looked on in bemusement at anyone so foolish as to tell such a story to a restaurant owner even as she was eating in her restaurant.

“So maybe stick with the plain plates?” I concluded.

Sureya seemed puzzled, as though I’d suggested the most peculiar thing. She thought about it a moment, and then her response knocked me for a loop.

sureya3“Why?” she said. “Let people take if that’s what’s important to them. Why even worry about that?” And I realized she was right. Who would even dream of stealing from a woman like this? That would be to invite such bad karma…

She was smiling as she reached behind her for a blue glass dish, and held it up in both hands. She moved it around in front of her to catch the light, swaying as she did so, almost dancing with it. “Look,” she said, “how could I not use this? isn’t it beautiful?”

It was. And so was the eggplant. And so is she.

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File under: existence | Tagged: Tags: Cafe Turko, karma, soul, Turkey | 9 Comments
  1. Linda Williams says:
    April 7, 2015 at 2:19 pm

    Welcome back, Lesley. So good to be reading your stories again. This was a great one.

  2. Nuzhat says:
    April 7, 2015 at 8:15 pm

    Sureya or suraiya means polite and beautiful. Your one surely looks and sounds both, isn’t it?
    A really heartwarming piece for my early morning read….the place being noted mentally as the second thing to do if I ever make it to Seattle, after my dream of meeting you….

  3. Rizwan Nasar says:
    April 8, 2015 at 8:33 am

    Great read! Thanks for the blog!

  4. Zvi & Dorothy Pantanowitz says:
    April 8, 2015 at 1:47 pm

    This makes you want to go there and taste food and soul.

    Love p

  5. Else Korsbæk says:
    April 17, 2015 at 8:09 am

    At a local cafe, everything is for sale – besides the food the plates, the chairs, the flowers, whatever and second-hand. I almost bought the cup, from which I was drinking, as it was from my grandparents’ set of Sunday-China 🙂

  6. Wahab says:
    April 26, 2015 at 3:49 am

    The Turkish tea takes getting used to 😛

  7. Raghu Cidambi says:
    May 1, 2015 at 5:22 am

    Hi
    Discovered you yesterday and have spent a lot of time since listening to you on YouTube! Wow and Wow!

    I’m not certain about this 🙂 but I think you are right that in matters theological, strident certainty is most often very annoying. As an agnostic, I wonder what you make of 52:35&36 (reasonable agreement in most translations). This seems to be in striking contrast to the Rig Veda 10:129 (particularly verse 6) that is conveniently available in wiki at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasadiya_Sukta. Or maybe I got it all wrong.

    No matter whether you look at it or not, I want you to know that I think you are doing great stuff.

    Best

  8. Osama says:
    May 21, 2015 at 1:11 am

    This reminds me of a story
    A robber stole Umar Ibn al-Khattab’s turban in the marketplace and ran. Umar ran after him shouting,

    ‘I bear witness to Allah that I have given it to you, so say ‘I accept it’ so that the Hellfire does not touch you!’

    The penalty for stealing in Islam is cutting the robber’s hand unless the robber say he didn’t steal or unless the stolen from give a pardon to the thief. In the story, Umer ran after the thief to give him pardon.

  9. Jihan Jamal says:
    June 10, 2015 at 7:41 am

    Sureya is a lovely person and I agree with her! Thank you for your story; it reminded me of the things that are truly important and that material things are not; beauty and lovingly made food is!

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Recent Posts

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