Consider The Accordion

Welcome to a hit of hope. This practice lets you to take the time and space needed to center in order to find peace and serenity.

**
Glad that you are here, taking the time and making the effort to center.
To breathe.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Welcome to a Hit of Hope.
Imagine a room filled with all kinds of instruments.
Society might suggest that we should make a beeline toward the electric guitar. Because that’s the star.

Transcript

Hey there,

Glad that you are here,

Taking the time and making the effort to center,

To breathe.

Inhale,

Exhale.

Welcome to a hit of hope.

Imagine a room filled with all kinds of instruments.

Society might suggest that we should make a beeline toward the electric guitar,

Because that's the star.

The one that gets all the attention,

The one that stands out,

The one that gets all of those long and intricate solos and the applause at the end.

Look at those fingers.

Listen to that wail.

Inhale,

Exhale.

Let's be honest,

Many of us want to be the electric guitar.

It's the instrument that gets all the chicks and lives the life,

Baby.

Rock on,

Dude.

But it recently occurred to me that a better choice in that room of instruments might be the accordion,

The squeeze box,

The instrument that some might dismiss as preposterous,

Ridiculous.

It's big and bulky.

It wheezes.

It's what grandparents listen to as they putz around the dance floor and polka.

Or let's be honest,

We maybe believe it's only old men sitting on a bridge in Paris who ought to play it as we meander on by on our way to Notre Dame.

Consider the accordion.

It is solid,

Complex.

It has keys,

Buttons,

Bellows.

It breathes in and out.

And from that center pours music,

Music that pulsates,

Music that invites all who are gathered around to rise and move for whom among us can resist the accordion's beat.

The electric guitar is amazing,

Don't get me wrong.

But consider the accordion.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Be the solid and breathing thing.

Be the surprising and unique thing that steps into a room that people gather around.

The thing that connects and brings an odd and insistent delight with its happy beat.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Or to put it another way,

Oompapa,

Oompapa,

Oompapa,

Oompapa.

Namaste.

Reviews

Nah, still thinking I'd like to be the cello, a bit whimsical and airy moving.. ♥️

I've been saving this one for a while, because of the picture of the accordion. I love accordions, I've had one for about 5 years That I found in a thrift shop. I can still only play one song. And the way I learned to play that song was breathing with the accordian. Sometimes when I meditate I still use that visual.
Thanks again for a great talk.
Namaste 🙏
(P.s. the song, love me tender.)

I was smiling all the way through. Just what I needed.

Another fabulous metaphor from Betsy's creative mind and living heart. I've always been a big fan of the electric guitar, metaphorically and otherwise, but this opens my eyes to many other options that are as awesome, just different.

Always thrilled to see a new Betsy Johnson pop-up including this gem, so thank you ❤️

Ok, so I love this.

Not just because my father played accordion.

Not just because my German grandmother loved to polka and the very first time she danced again after her first massive stroke was to a polka with my grandfather on the reception dance floor at the renewal of marriage vows my husband and I held.

Not even just because one of my top all-time favorite musicans is "Weird Al" Yankovic, whom I have seen in concert three times and creates the unexpected from the expected - while using an accordion.

Or that a favorite fictional character, Waldo Butters, M.D. (from Jim Butcher's "Dresden Files" book series) is a polka-loving, accordion-playing virtuoso who has a suit to compete as a one-man band in polka competitions and has used said skills to save the day.

And no, not because even as a kid rummaging around downstairs, and finding/playing with my father's old accordion, I spent hours considering how versatile it was and how unassuming or even "dorky" it looked on the outside - much like me, I thought at the time.

If I were to have walked into that room full of instruments you mentioned, I would have headed for the cello or bass guitar. They plays classical music, look sophisticated, but suddenly can turn on a flick of the wrist and become the driving force of a jazz riff or heartbeat of more modern hard-hitting tunes. This with only a few simple strings. It doesn't require the complex interaction and coordination of buttons, bellows, and keys to create the unexpected.

But I love this HoH because of two things.

1) It brought me back to my roots, my family, and my personal interests. I don't play accordion, but I play piano, organ, flute, piccolo, and am semi-decent on a few other instruments with a couple of instruments still on my "to learn" list (harp and French horn at the moment). I may just add accordion to that list. It is part of my familial heritage too.

2) My choice of cello or bass guitar made sense, but lacked a certain "something." This HoH made me realize what that was.

A reflection that looks can be deceiving.

Those stringed behemoths look classy just sitting on a stand in the corner. The accordion? Not so much.

But literally as the folds in the bellows open, new secrets and discoveries of sound and harmony and emotion are revealed - then hidden again as it collapses in upon itself during the squeeze.

We ARE accordions.

We open up to others and close ourselves off to others. Our unique music is shared with some, and not with others. Not everyone appreciates our music - but many do.

Those who "push our buttons" may find either a melody or discordant tones, depending upon what other buttons and keys are being pressed - and what our personal inner state of being may be. This is the squeeze and release of the accordion bellows in action. Are we open? Or closed? Full of breath and with arms spread open to receive? Are we experiencing the bottom of the exhale with arms protectively close to our body in inward contemplation of the notes just sent out to the universe?

I wouldn't choose the accordion if I walked into that room full of instruments. I wouldn't need to. Because I have now realized I AM the accordion. And life is good as an accordion. 😊

Thank you for this, Betsy. I see the light - and hear the music (polka or otherwise) - within you. 🤲🏻❤️🤲🏻

Great perspective!

That was a good one. Made me smile :-)

LOL Wheeeezzz.
Thank you for the laughter Betsy.

Thank you Betsy for this very interesting exercise.

Well that made me smile. So clever. I love your Brain Betsy Johnson. Thank you 🙏❤🙏🎶🎵🎼🎶

Thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Three years ago, around this time of the year, I was at a family reunion weekend, the very last one with my husband, as he would transition half a year later. A young nephew played the accordion and my husband grabbed me and we danced and somebody grabbed their phone and filmed it, then sent it to me. It was so joyous and wonderful and great to go back to and replay, and always the beautiful sound of the accordion....

😆....love it. Need to listen to this one again....for some reason it reminded me of "wooden heart" by Elvis ...was that an accordian..?.lovely song....lovely words (reminiscent of 'discarded')

😃❤️This put a smile on my face, thank you Betsy!🙏I so look forward to your meditations💖😊🙏