Backbone > Ear Whacks

Welcome to Heaven: The Star Songs of Cari Cole
By Sharon Nichols

Some days just flat-out suck. Of course, there are different ways to deal with days that suck. You can scream, cry hysterically, sprint like a freak, drink heavily, watch Austin Powers, smoke dope, or punch someone in the brain. Or you could just crawl under a blanket and cuddle up with two little books by don Miguel Ruiz.

Ah, Miguel! His Eminence of Profundity. If you’ve ever read Ruiz’s bestselling The Four Agreements or The Mastery of Love, you know precisely what I’m talking about. These wisdom books are like comfort food—they’re the macaroni and cheese of books. Many of Ruiz’s 2.6 million readers emphatically testify that by applying the teachings of this Mexican Toltec shaman, a tremendous—albeit incremental—personal transformation takes place. Of course, no one tells you beforehand that it’s also an exhausting peek under the microscope where you’re trapped under that little plastic sleeve with the beautiful agony of your own emotional slop. It’s all a setup, a self-inflicted dragnet. Busted! Suddenly you’re stalking your own mind, kicking your own butt, and you’re excruciatingly awake. For me, it was like when Helen Keller put her hands under that water pump and screamed, “Waaa! Waaa!”

And then Cari Cole’s CD appeared in my mailbox.

Ah, Cari Cole. The don Miguel of music. I say this because her lilting, inspirational CD, The Circle of Fire, was inspired by those ferocious books and endorsed by the man himself. Now, some may roll their eyes and say, “Are you really giving two pages of ink to some new cheeseball, Amy Grant rigmarole?” Others may say, “Wow, a thousand suns...thanks!” I address both crowds. How can you believe you are not beautiful when you are made from the stars?—from Cole’s “There is Love In You” Ruiz says we’re programmed in childhood by wounded adults to fear, judge, lie, gossip, criticize, and basically self-destruct. But we’re innocent, so we agree, then grow up navigating ourselves like marionettes. “Welcome to hell!” Ruiz declares. In The Four Agreements—be impeccable with your word, don’t take anything personally, don’t make assumptions, always do your best—Ruiz outlines his key to personal freedom with shockingly simple language that anyone with the IQ of a snap bean can comprehend. The journey to emotional maturity continues in The Mastery of Love; readers are handed a zoom lens through which the meaning of love and healthy relationships are examined. It may sound like a no-brainer to someone who hasn’t cracked the covers, but it’s Ruiz’s brilliant articulation that makes these volumes the Krispy Kreme of common sense.

“It was so powerful,” Cole says of her first read through The Four Agreements. “I wept. It was like, oh my god, this is it! My heart just leapt.” In her search for the authentic self, Cole sought out Ruiz’s dotcom and began an apprenticeship with instructor Rita Rivera that took her to San Diego for a weekend workshop at Ruiz’s House of the Eagles. Cole gets teary describing him. “He’s everything you’d expect and everything you wouldn’t,” she reveals. “Simple, but not gushy or sentimental; those are attachments. He’s completely transcended and healed his wounds. You look into his eyes and see the universe. There’s absolutely no judgment. People start crying, and everything that isn’t from love comes to the surface. All the lies we’ve told ourselves. The truth is mirrored back at you; you start a rigorous cleansing.”

Though raised a Quaker, Cole explored mystery schools, reading such authors as Carlos Castaneda in her youth. A former soloist for New York City’s Metro Mass Choir and voice teacher, she began songwriting at age seven. After many years, Cole abandoned her music career because of her distaste for the industry. But during her apprenticeship with Ruiz that winter of 2001, her truth came out. “I’m a songwriter,” she remembers. “That’s who I am.” At that retreat, it was suggested that someone write music to one of Ruiz’s prayers.

“I literally had a flash and saw the whole thing happen,” says Cole. “I knew I was going to write it, and it was going to be on a CD. I came home, the floodgates opened, and all these songs came out.” The first song to spill was the gentle, synth-based “The Circle of Fire Prayer” in which she sings Ruiz’s invocation with heavenly tones: “We will respect all creation as the symbol / of our love communion with the One who created us / to the eternal happiness of humanity.” This musical prayer became the first of 10 holistic tracks to be chosen for Cole’s The Circle of Fire, released last year by Amber-Allen, a five-person enterprise which published Ruiz’s books and now networks in 24 countries.

After writing that first song, Cole took a “power journey” to Teotihuacan, the ancient Toltec pyramids near Mexico City that were built two millennia ago. Literally translated, this “place where man becomes god” was used for these people’s symbolic journey to enlightenment. In recent years, Ruiz has reunited his readership with Teo, and he now walks individuals through eight plazas where the warriors once walked—beginning in a place called The Plaza of Hell—for sacred ceremonies and cleansings. Out of Cole’s initial journey came another song, the sweetly floating piano/guitar of “Teo”, calling the listener to that place with the powerful simplicity of Native American flute. “I cannot turn away now from the mirror you show me / the face of fear that binds, and everything in between / I am you, you are me, there are no spaces inbetween.”

“Teotihuacan is more than you can imagine,” explains Cole. “What I hoped to capture in the song is a place where transformation lives. Everything that’s not from truth rears its head at Teo, right in front of you. That place is like a vortex; all those years of all those Toltecs releasing so much stuff.” Cole returned to Teo nine months later and plans another trip this November. “Each time it’s another layer,” she says. “And there’s no judgment there.”

Joining Cole on this elegant CD are Jamie Obstbaum (backing vocals), Larry Saltzman (guitar), Joe Deninzon (violin), Cole’s husband Paul St. James (bass), Joe Bonadio and Damian Bassman (percussion), and David Weiss (flute). In the rousing melody of “Whenever The Time is Now,” Cole rides the waves between love and fear: “Through the smoke and mirrors, spirit calls to us / whoever you are is enough, whatever you have is perfection / what you see isn’t real / if not you, then who will love your life?” The spare piano and violin of “Heaven” surrounds an elated mantra that reveals the dwelling place of God: “Speak with the mouth of God / love with the heart of God / dance with the soul of God / merge with the mind of God / live in heaven, right here, right now.” Cole’s multi-layered vocals in her beautiful rendition of “The Lord’s Prayer” calls to the divinity in us through whatever name we choose to call it. “I believe all pathways lead to the same place,” she explains. “I don’t like organized religion in particular; I don’t believe in a punishing god. I like the approach of empowering the individual instead of the organization.”

A release party for the CD was held last August; Ruiz sat next to Cole, holding her hand. When she expressed her gratitude, he looked at her with huge eyes, and said, “Oh, honey, it’s just the beginning!” He was right. Now that the CD is out, Cole is back to teaching voice in her spare time and expanding her New York City voice studio. Her recent June performance came during a Four Agreements Certification training program at Omega in Rhinebeck. Before that, it was an audience-attended recording session at The Shed in NYC in preparation for a new CD. She admits that The Circle of Fire recording was not made for the music industry because she wanted it to be free of industry sheen. But her new CD promises more instrumentation and arrangement, and a more Sting-ish, Peter Gabriel groove, but with the same kind of loving message. She’s currently shopping it, and Blue Note has shown some interest. Cole’s also working on a project using Ruiz’s speaking voice, setting his prayers and ramblings to music.

Cole was writing heavily as bombs were tearing up the nation of Iraq, adopting titles such as “Peace”, “Ripple (in the Sea of Humanity),” and “Spiritual Evolution.” Through music, she recognizes her calling, and the calling of us all.

“Instead of pointing the finger, we need to take responsibility that the terrorists are really within,” she professes. “It’s time for us to become the incredible human beings we are. Humanity is growing up. It’s time for us to move out of our adolescent phase into adulthood. There are a lot of angry teenagers wreaking havoc with our world. We need to have ultimate compassion and love, and create that vibration in our own lives. That’s all we can do.”

For more information on Cole or her upcoming projects, log onto www.caricole.com.