This weekend, I experienced the worst nightmare of any Dave Matthews Band fan. I sat, with tickets in hand, to a show in Dallas, while I was in North Carolina. As sometimes happens to all of us, unpredictable and uncontrollable circumstances arose that made my well-plotted plans a bust. And despite knowing better, I felt like a monkey who was pushed from her dreaming tree.

Following a set-list can be fun, and even a game of sorts on a regular night. But on a night when you were "supposed to be there," it is nothing short of masochistic. Especially when, out of nowhere, comes a "Loving Wings" opener, followed by an incredible assortment of tracks like, "If I Had It All," which has only been played twice since 2006, and a full band "Save Me," which has never been played. Oh, and did I mention the "Two Step," that many are calling the best live performance of that song? Ever?

I am writing about this for two reasons. One, because I need to process it further myself, and two, because I know that many of us have, or, will be, in this boat at some point. And, as usual, it turns out, that Dave was right when he said, "If I had a boat, I'd ride it on the ocean," because ride it out is exactly what we need to do.

It's natural that I would be disappointed because my plans didn't work out. And because I love this band so much, it's even natural for my heart to hurt with longing for the music. But what isn't natural, and what is totally ego-driven, is the idea that I was "supposed to be there," or that I "missed out" on something that was mine.

The idea that we are supposed to be anywhere other than where we are is the root of much unhappiness in this life-time. It is this line of thinking that leads people to believe that they can only be satisfied once X, Y, and Z factors occur. When I get that promotion, lose 20lbs, find a soulmate, hit the lottery, hear "Granny," get published, etc. Whatever the goal is, suspending contentment until it is met, will keep us all in a constant state of dysthymia (a low-level depression). I'm not saying that having goals is wrong, but what I am saying, is that believing that we are any less than, right now, is nothing but faulty thinking.

It has to be this way. Otherwise, there would be no meaning in a moment that is truly ours. I am lucky enough to still have a show to see on Wednesday, in Charlotte. And although I am human, which means that I do have a list of tunes in my head that I would prefer, I am going to do my best, (if God-willing, I make it to this one!), to be fully present and open, so that the sounds can fill up my soul. And I trust, that whatever I hear this week will be enough, both to make up for Saturday, and to fill up heaven and overflow. 

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

When people ask me why I love the Dave Matthews Band, I rarely even know where to start. One thing I inevitably end up mentioning is the way that every time I turn around, the band is contributing to another charity event or production. This Mother's Day is no exception, with the boys offering a live version of "Sister," to the "Every Mother Counts CD," a compilation disk aimed at bringing awareness to the high mortality rate of mothers around the world.

The Every Mother Count's campaign is asking that all mothers participate in an act of silence this Mothers Day, to show solidarity for women across the globe who have been injured, or died, during pregnancy or childbirth, due to a lack of adequate health care. Being a relatively new mother myself, I initially was unsure of how my own silence on Mother's Day would help anyone else. But then I was reminded of Quan Yin, the goddess of compassion, and her vow to forsake Nirvana, (not the band), until every living soul was allowed to enter. On a much smaller scale, I think this same idea applies to Every Mother Count's notion of "No Mother's Day."

Initiatives like this remind us all of how connected we really are. We are all the woman in Africa who dies during childbirth because she cannot get to a hospital, just as, we are all the woman in North America who sees her ob-gyn three times a week for pre-natal care. Everyone is made up of the same elements, and we all come from the same source. This is why the actions of each person matter so much. What we do does not only affect ourselves. Even when we cannot see the result, our behavior can cause a ripple that affects someone in a distant part of the world. Much like the well-known Butterfly Effect. This effect can be both positive or negative, depending on the initial action. It's quite a paradox, really. As small as each of us are in this Universe, we can still have enormous influence on the world around us. Marianne Williamson explains this phenomenon beautifully when she says that each time one person finds her wings, we all learn to fly.

And then there is the value of silence. Silence can be unbelievably powerful, both on a personal, and interpersonal level. Individually, people often use silence to connect with the small and still parts of themselves that cannot be heard amidst the daily chatter. And between people, shared silence can mean many things, some enjoyable, like when thoughts pass without words, and others awkward, like the dreaded pregnant pause. In addition, silence can make sound even more profound, which is interesting considering the fact that this voluntary quietude takes place just a few days before the start of the DMB summer tour.

And yet, with all of the compelling reasons to take part in "No Mother's Day," I can understand how some women, myself included, might find it a bit unattainable. And I say, that is okay too. If we can't commit to complete silence, maybe we could say a prayer, or partake in a ritual, honoring those women who have died during woman's greatest act of creation. We don't have to be perfect, it's enough to start where we are, whispering our intentions of love.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

​Funny how history repeats itself. In 1995, while watching a late-night talk show, I fell in "love at first note," with the sound of a quirky and adorable singer/songwriter from South Africa. Seventeen years later, having evolved synchronistically with the music, it happened to me all over again.

Last night, Dave Matthews appeared on the Jimmy Fallon show to give fans a taste of DMB's new album. Dave performed an acoustic version of a song called "Mercy," with the help of the amazing guitarist, Captain Kirk, of "The Roots."

It is always exciting to hear something new from your favorite artist. But, to me, "Mercy" is more than just a new track, because she speaks volumes about the current state of the world, and what we must do in order for healing to occur. I love the fact that this tune was chosen to be played while Dave was appearing on the same show as President Obama, as I believe it is a direct call, to all of us, for action.

If you look up the word, "Mercy" in the dictionary, you will find that it means, "compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence." To have mercy on someone, is to forgive them of their transgressions, without taking revenge. It is an act of kindness or understanding. It is an act of peace.

The lyrics to "Mercy" are heartbreakingly beautiful. Here is a sample of Dave's searing words:

​Stand up for what we need to be

​Cause crying won't save or feed a hungry child

​Can't lay down and hope a miracle will change things

​So lift up your eyes, lift up your heart, singing

​Mercy will we overcome this

​One by one could we turn it around

​Maybe carry on just a little bit longer

​And I'll try to give you what you need

This morning, my ipod shuffle treated me to Dave Matthews' and Tim Reynolds' version of "Bartender," from their "Live at Radio City Music Hall" performance. Despite my awful memory, I can still recall the first time that I popped that CD into my car stereo, and the dramatic chills that resulted from Dave's soulful humming at the beginning of the track. It made me think about how much is sometimes said, without a single word being uttered.

And then, being a psychologist, I had to think about it more. If sounds, like Dave's gut-level groans, are precursors to words, then what are the precursors to thoughts? Well, this has actually been the source of much debate, spurred on by the fact that we have no clear way to measure what thoughts really are. We can measure electricity and activity in the brain, but none of us has actually seen a thought, which is kind of interesting in itself. Regardless, the prevailing theory is that thoughts are related to feelings in some causal or a-causal way. Much of the debate centers around whether the thought, or the feeling, comes first, in a kind of chicken/egg, circle of reason.

But for this example, it seems that we can put thoughts and words into one category, and feelings and sounds into another. Intuitively, this just makes sense to me, as both thoughts and words seem to be more left-brained, (logically formed), while sounds and feelings are more right-brained, (creatively formed), entities. This could explain why hearing a sound can produce such intense feelings. They are both built from the same cloth.

Sounds exist for us at a pre-verbal level. Before we learn to talk, we make sounds that help us communicate our needs. Babies use sounds to indicate how they are doing and, as most parents can tell you, they use different cries for different issues. Simple sounds like "Om" and "Ah" are often used in meditations that take our minds to another level of consciousness. And, as I learned in yoga, the reciting of certain sounds is believed to build corresponding virtues. Saying "Ra" for example is said to bring about strength, which could explain why football cheers usually include a "Ra! Ra!" or two. The fact that the meaning of "Ra" comes from an ancient source, and it is unlikely that modern high- school cheering teams think about that source, just shows the way that information is powerfully transmitted across time and space through the collective unconscious. But that is another discussion entirely.

For now, let's just wonder at the power of sound. Like feelings, sounds have a fuzzy and sometimes unpredictable quality that make them hard to define, but easy to recognize. But, also like feelings, if we follow the sound to it's source, we may find that we are that much closer to home. Especially when that sound soars inside the soul, chases away the worry, and dances around, like a butterfly.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

It is so cool to have a basement. As a kid, I used to spend countless hours in our fully-furnished basement in Massachusetts, marveling at the thought of being underground, while still inside. During my time in Florida, I lived sans basement, although, there I spent as many waking moments as I could underwater, so I guess that's kind of the same thing. And now that I am in North Carolina, my basement serves as my office, my writing space, and my place of peace and quiet. That is when the incredibly loud tread of one very rambunctious two-year-old isn't thundering above me.

Forty years go by with someone laying in your bed.

Forty years of things you say you wish you never said. 

How hard would it have been to say some kinder words instead? 

I wonder as I stare at the sky turning red.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the external messages that we receive as children, and how, even as adults, it is often extremely difficult to replace those messages with healthier ones; even when logically we believe the healthier ones to be true. What, doesn't everyone wake up in the middle of the night thinking of these things?

At any rate, here's an example from my own life that will illustrate what I mean. Last week, I was trying to find a vacation house for my family to stay in when we go away next month. If you know me, you know that it is pretty unusual for me to plan a trip with such short notice, but I've been consciously trying to add some spontaneity to my life, so I figured this was a good opportunity. Well, after three days of searching for the perfect home, it was starting to look like we were going to have to settle for something that we didn't really want, because all the good ones were taken. (Perhaps, the single readers out there can relate to that statement on a different level.) Now, my old thinking, the type I grew up with, would tell me that it was my own fault for planning so late, and that there was no way that I could have everything that I wanted. In other words, that scarcity was the ruling phenomenon, and that I would just have to deal with it. But, thankfully, I don't really believe that.

What I actually believe, and what turned out to be true, is that the right house was out there, just waiting for me to find it. That the decision had already been made on another plane, and that the Universe was patiently watching while I fumbled around toward the right path. This way of thinking relies on abundance and trust at it's core, and at a gut level, it feels so right. 

Of course, you could argue that if finding a vacation house is my biggest problem, I am so damn lucky. And I would agree. But I also think that these better thoughts could be applied to much bigger issues, even about life and death. Isn't this what Dave Matthews is saying when he asks, "What point could there be troubling, head down wondering what will become of me? Why concern we cannot see, but no reason to abandon it."

Indeed, so many of Dave's songs speak of living here and now, in the moment, because we really don't know what could happen in the next second. This is something I have always loved about DMB lyrics, but until now, I never really thought of how it could also apply to breaking free from old thought patterns. Imagine how powerful a human race we would be if we all lived as we saw fit. Sure, that might be a scary proposition for some, but I believe that deep down, somewhere in the basement of our psyches, each one of us contains the great light. So, if good thoughts fall like rain, let's open up our minds, and let the rain come pouring in.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D. 

Yesterday, like nearly every teen in my county, I went to see the "Hunger Games" at the town theater. Several months ago, upon the recommendation of a friend, I started reading the books, and like so many others, became immediately hooked, so I was eager to see how the movie would measure up to the text. I was also very excited to see local footage, as many of the forest scenes were shot within minutes of  my home. In my opinion, the movie was fantastic, and that is not an easy feat, since flicks are, so often, watered down versions of their literary predecessors. I won't give anything away, as I imagine many of you will be making this journey on your own, but I can't help but share some of my thoughts on this phenomenon, especially when those thoughts take me right back to DMB. 

First, I keep wondering how Suzanne Collins, the writer of the series, feels today. To know that characters, who once existed solely in her head, are now being watched on thousands of big screens, must be a truly surreal experience. I don't know, but I bet that when she wrote this story she had no idea the effect that it would have on those who read it. It is an outstanding tale, but when any piece of art makes it to this level, we also have to wonder what other factors were at play to create such an enormous success. Besides pure talent, is it timing, luck, sociological issues, or some other inconceivable facet that pushes certain works above all others? There seems to be a mysterious element that is out of the artist's hands when it comes to this process, and I believe that the most skilled creators make themselves familiar with this ambiguity in order to thrive. This, of course, is where the Dave Matthews Band comes in. As Dave and the boys are working on the new record, I imagine that they are creating space for mystery when it comes to the outcome of their project. Even on the heels of past achievements, a group can never be sure how a novel piece will be received. Still, everything we know about these musicians tells us that they will play with their whole hearts, leaving no chord untouched by pure emotion.

Also, if the new album is anything like the quintet's past deeds, we can expect to hear some songs that make important statements about the ways of the world today. Therein lies the other tie in that I found between Suzanne's plot and Dave's writing; socio-cultural relevancy. As I sat in the crowded room yesterday afternoon, I wondered how many of the adolescents around me were taking in the clear parallels that Ms. Collins put forth between her imagined society, and the one in which we live. Is it really that far off to think of a time when there is such a huge divide between rich and poor? A time when a very small percentage of the population has all the power? A time when reality television de-sensitizes us to the very real suffering of our brothers and sisters? Personally, I don't think that scenario is so far-fetched, which is why I am eternally grateful for the works of gifted artists who bring our attention to these issues, by giving us songs and movies that raise our collective consciousness. Because together, we can put the hope back in our minds. 

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Last Sunday, Dave Matthews participated in John Varvatos' Annual Stuart House Benefit. The event, held at Varvatos' West Hollywood Store, raises money and awareness to help children who have been sexually abused. This year, Dave assisted the foundation in raising over $700,000 for this worthy cause.

As Steve Baltin of "Rolling Stone" describes it, the day is full of family fun and relaxation, complete with a kids tent for the little ones. According to him, the atmosphere is so chill that celebrities walk easily amongst the crowd, especially Dave, who reportedly spent part of his afternoon delighting children with his antics. Baltin also said that Dave told his share of jokes and stories while performing, as no solo Dave performance is complete without a good bit of Dave-speak.

Concert-goers were treated to a 40 minute acoustic set, which included, "41", "Stay or Leave," "You and Me," "Crush," "Funny the Way it Is," and "Sweet." But what really stood out for me, was Dave's undying humility in the midst of this act of charity. In this video, taken by "Extra," our favorite musician, perhaps characteristically, downplays his role in the celebration. Giving away all of the credit, he talks of his part as just "singing," which he describes as easy, while others, he says, have spent months preparing and working for this occasion.

While I am sure that Dave is rightly giving props to those in charge of this amazing function, it also occurs to me that this is not a new behavior for our lead singer. And it makes me wonder, what if Dave honestly doesn't know how powerful and healing his voice and music really are? Yes, we could all probably use a dose of the reserve that DJM shows in regards to his own abilities, but at some point, isn't it not only our right, but also our obligation to own our strengths? Some theorists believe, and I tend to agree, that we have all been put here on this Earth for a reason, and that each of us comes equipped with various potentials and talents. It is, then, part of our growth process to recognize the gifts that we have been given, and share them with others. It is in this way, that our own unique flair becomes fodder for creativity in those around us. 

Now, I am not picking on Dave for his way of being. Actually, I think he provides a great balance to most rock-stars, who just can't get enough of themselves. But I do think that his unpretentiousness can serve as a jumping off point for our own self-exploration. Are we acknowledging our own power? Or are we allowing life's inevitable circumstances to weigh us down? Are we letting others see our true beauty? Or are we hiding behind our own faults.

Many of us carry serious apprehensions about what it would be like to truly step into our essence. I believe that Marianne Williamson said it best when she asserted that, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, but that we are powerful beyond measure." But just imagine what a joyride this life would really be, if we could realize that, "You and I, we're not tied to the ground, not falling but rising." Everyday.  

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

What an exciting time it is to be a Dave Matthews Band fan! Enthusiasts everywhere are either waiting by their mailboxes for Warehouse packages, or already enjoying the new live releases; tour dates are out, and Steve Lillywhite recently tweeted that this new album will prompt us to stop referring to our favorite DMB records as the “Big 3,” and instead call them the “Big 4!” Steve is, of course, making reference to the first three albums that the band released under his production, “Under the Table and Dreaming,” “Crash,” and “Before These Crowded Streets,” which are widely considered the best Dave Matthews Band works of all time. So much excitement, indeed! So what are we to do as we wait for all of these good things to come our way?

Well, I don’t really know, as I’ve never been too good at waiting, but one thing that helps me get through these long Dave-less months, is to notice just how often DMB is being mentioned these days in the popular media. As I’ve pointed out before, I don’t watch television, but I do have internet, so I am able to catch many of the network's commentaries on my favorite band. What I’ve found is that sometimes I agree with the reference, and sometimes I don’t, but I’m always happy to be reminded, (as if I forgot!) of our wonderful musicians, and I am grateful that more and more people are constantly being exposed to such greatness.

Two examples where DMB has been brought into mainstream television as of late, include a comment on a show called “Happy Endings,” and, of course, on “American Idol,” with newcomer, Philip Phillips. So let’s start with “Happy Endings,” because, honestly, I wasn’t that happy about it. Granted, I didn’t watch the whole show, but what I caught was a clip where one of the male characters, named “Dave,” was trying to find his social role among his peers. At least in the part that I saw, “Dave” didn’t seem like the smoothest guy, and so his friends told him that he could be the “Dave,” in the group, as every ensemble needs a “Dave.” His friends then went on to tell him that even the Dave Matthews Band has a “Dave,” and that Carter Beauford is the “Dave” of DMB. Now, I get that they were playing on the word Dave here, but one, they pronounced Carter’s last name wrong, and two, Carter is not just a side-kick! In fact, many would call Carter God! So, thank you, ABC, for discussing our boys, but please do a little more research next time!

And now on to “American Idol.” As many of you know, a young singer/guitarist from Georgia named Philip Phillips, (yes, really) has been making serious waves in this year’s singing competition. During his audition, he belted out Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition,” and Michael Jackson’s, “Thriller,” like the tunes were embedded in his very soul. Personally, I think his sound is fantastic, but I have heard many DMB lovers complain that he is trying too hard to be Dave. True, he dresses, dances, and gestures like Dave, but he does give DJM credit for being one of his most admired musical influences. And if he wins, maybe Dave would make an appearance on the show! We can only hope that Steven Tyler will stay fully clothed for that episode.

Whatever your opinions of these popular mentions, at least they give us something to muse over as the Earth takes her journey into Spring, and then Summer, where our pineapple grass bracelets eagerly await us all.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Even by the most conservative standards, it seems safe to start celebrating the upcoming release of the Dave Matthews Band’s 8th studio album! Earlier this week, Stefan Lessard, who is always good about letting fans in on the progress of the group, tweeted, “Just imagine yourself dancing to something new and something beautiful!” And if that’s not enough to wet your whistle, check out this video where Rashawn Ross talks about his role on the new record.

According to Rashawn, the horn section of the recent creation was completed in one day, only six hours, to be exact! That is amazing, and certainly a sign that things are flowing for our favorite musicians. Rashawn also states that his horn sounded so powerful that there was no need to “stack”, a common practice used in the recording industry to give the illusion of multiple horn players, in order to add weight to the sound. To me this is fantastic news, as it appears that the boys are working in a simpler, more organic way with producer Steve Lillywhite. As you probably remember, Mr. Lillywhite produced the band’s first three albums, “Under the Table and Dreaming,” “Crash,” and “Before These Crowded Streets.” He also worked with DMB in 1999 and 2000, making the unreleased “Lillywhite Sessions,” which were famously leaked onto the internet. Despite changing producers, many tracks from the “Lillywhite Sessions” grew to form the basis of “Busted Stuff.”

From the way Stefan and Rashawn are talking, it sounds like we are in for some outstanding new material. And I certainly don’t want to discourage that. But, wouldn’t it also be amazing to find a full "#40" on this release? I bring this up because a really funny thing happened the other day. I had my ipod on shuffle, as I do when I’m feeling especially daring, (usually I just listen to straight DMB, no hits, deep tracks only), and the breathtaking version of "#40" from 5/10/95, at Yoshi’s in California, came on. It’s always awesome when that first note of a Dave song emerges from shuffle, but particularly when that note signifies one of your all time favorite Dave songs. But glancing at my ipod, I saw something peculiar. For some reason, wherever I downloaded this number from, (it was certainly not dbtp!), had it listed as part of the “Lillywhite Sessions.” Coincidence? Maybe, but it’s certainly more interesting to imagine that this was a foreshadowing of wonderful things to come!

If this dream of mine comes true it would certainly give new meaning to the line, “The road to you is long but I’ve been on it for awhile. But I need to rode away, I’ll take a break.” In fact this could accurately describe the process through which both the band, and Steve Lillywhite, have gone to get to where they are now. Either way, I’m just grateful that they have agreed to work together again, coming full circle, to create what I hope will be so wondrous, that it will have us questioning whether we are right side up, or upside down.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Over the weekend, I watched a beautiful movie called, “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close,” about a boy with Asperger’s Syndrome, who loses his father in 9-11, and embarks on an emotional journey to find the matching lock to a mysterious key. Of course, the lock and key are symbolic of this boy’s search for meaning in a world where his father died an unjust death on what the boy calls, “The Worst Day.”

Having Asperger’s, the young hero is unbelievably organized and meticulous about his efforts to find what he is looking for. But what really moved me about his performance was the way in which he made himself believe that finding this lock would somehow extend his precious time with his Dad. Of his two parents, his Dad was the one who would engage him in intellectually stimulating conversation and play, making him feel connected, where he otherwise felt odd and alone.

Unfortunately, I know all too well the pain of losing a parent who you can really relate to. My own father was taken by cancer 9 years ago, and to this day I continue to look for ways to connect with him. Although not unburdened by doubt, I do believe that our loved one’s souls stay with us after their bodies disintegrate. But I also personally understand the motivation that would cause someone to search in the most unlikely of places for anything that could bring a loved one back, if only for an instant.

Sometimes, the loss feels so big and so wide that nothing could ever fill it up. But other times, I believe that it is this space from which creativity abounds. I often associate this belief with the works of Dave Matthews, because he writes so poignantly about embracing the moment, a skill that he seemed to develop out of necessity. Between the losses of his father, sister, and later LeRoi, Dave certainly knows about living at the corner of Grey Street and the end of the world.

Could it be that Dave started to play the guitar at age 9, in part due to his father’s worsening illness? Perhaps as a way to channel the many intense emotions that must have been arising for him at that time? We can’t be sure, but we do know that many of Dave’s lyrics have been influenced by his relationship with grief, and the inevitability of death. The one verse that is really standing out for me today, (possibly as a result of some intense imagery from the film), comes from the captivating, “You Never Know,” where he says, “Spinning on the wind. A leaf fell from a limb. But every day should be a good day to die. So play.” Such a poignant phrase, highlighting the fact that every leaf eventually falls, dizzy from all this spinning. But what if those fallen leaves continue to circle around us like particles of dust, visible only when we shine a direct light on them?

Right before I saw “Extremely Loud,” I went to the Ladies‘ Room where inside the stall I found these words staring back at me, “This is your father.” Turns out not where, but who you’re with that really matters.  

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

I hate New Year’s resolutions. Mostly because I feel like they put unnecessary pressure on people to do things that they believe they “should” be doing. It’s not that I don’t think people can change, or that I think trying to improve upon oneself is a hopeless endeavor, it’s just that it seems to me that people are more successful at making necessary adjustments when the impetus for change comes from within, rather than from the fact that it happens to be January 1st. That being said, I have noticed a very interesting yearly pattern in my own life, where I start new projects in September, which happens to be the Jewish New Year. But what fascinates me about this dynamic is the way that it occurs. It’s not like I sit down and plan for Jewish New Year resolutions. (Does anyone even do that?) They just happen, and then, days, or sometimes weeks later, I realize what time of year it is. You would think that after several years of this I would catch on quicker, but, as is often the case, insight doesn’t always follow a logical time-line.

In any event, this unusual process is actually a good example of synchronicity, a topic that I have lightly covered here before. Synchronicity is a unifying principle in the Universe that was given a psychological name by Carl Jung, the 19th century Swiss psychiatrist. The term synchronicity describes a meaningful coincidence, or an a-causal relationship between two events. For example, you think of a friend who calls you moments later, or you are writing a report and need a specific piece of information which comes to you as a result of a chance meeting with an old acquaintance. These “meaningful coincidences” happen to all of us, but they are most noticeable when we are open to all that life has to offer. And when they occur, we often experience a renewed sense of connection with all that is around us. It’s a lovely reminder that everything and everyone is connected, even if we cannot see what is holding us together.

I bring this up because I would love for 2012 to be a year where we all feel a little more connected to one another and everything that exists in our beautiful world. This is not a resolution! Rather, it’s something that I want to be mindful of, and it is certainly a theme that is very present in many of Dave Matthew’s songs. (Plus, what else was I going to talk about today. I doubt Chris wants me to mention the rumors that Dave and the boys are working with Steve Lillywhite on a new album, as we speak!!! So, no, I’m not going to talk about that.) Instead, I just want to wish all of you a very happy New Year, and I invite you to join me in my non-resolution to look for the love in here. Because, truly, it is love that treats us well and keeps us dancing.  

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Blame it on the holiday season, but lately I’ve been thinking about the unparalleled power of kindness. Paradoxically, this wonderful quality sometimes eludes us, as we rush around, under the stress of a deadline, worried that our loved ones won’t be sufficiently delighted when they open their gifts. Add a tight budget to this mix, and we might understand why otherwise sane people find themselves fighting over plasma television sets at 3 in the morning on Black Friday, when their tryptophan-filled bodies would clearly prefer a good night’s sleep. In depth psychology, we say that very strong energies often bring up their opposite counterparts. For example, after the horrific events of 9/11, the city of New York saw compassionate connections forming between people who may otherwise have remained distant strangers. In that same way, I wonder if the positive dynamics surrounding Winter’s festivities can also activate some of our negative human traits, like impatience, selfishness, and greed.  

It’s for this reason that what happened to me a couple of weeks ago remains at the forefront of my mind. I was walking with my husband and daughter through an upscale outdoor mall when we passed a young man sitting on a wooden bench outside a book store. I can’t remember exactly what the twenty-something looked like, except that he had a kind of grungy appearance, and was smoking a cigarette. Having suffered allergies all of my life, cigarette smoke is probably my biggest pet peeve, so I am sure that I immediately formed all kinds of unconscious judgments about this person. But then came the miracle. This kind soul turned his cigarette in toward himself, presumably so that we wouldn’t have to inhale the toxins. I literally stopped in my tracks and thanked him for his gesture. It may have meant more to me because of my own intolerance for that smell, but the fact that this person was considerate enough to shield my family from second-hand smoke floored me. It seriously made me reconsider my unfair assessments of people who smoke.   

I tell this story because I think it illustrates how beautifully affected we can be by simple acts of benevolence. This guy not only made my day, but he made me a better person by causing me to look deeply into my thoughts toward others, who, like me, are not perfect. And that’s how kindness works. It catches fire and spreads, just like love.

Dave says that “If kindness is your king, then heaven will be yours before you meet your end.” Especially during these hectic times, this seems like a wonderful mantra to live by. If every one of us performed just one small act of generosity a day, the results could be monumental, as big as a beach ball! So, let’s roll out the red carpet and let love shine. The world is a beautiful, strange, and forgiving place, full of gamblers, robbers, drinkers, and jokers, all soul searchers, like you and me. And still, love, love, love is all around. 

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

The other day, I came across an incredibly moving YouTube video of Dave Matthews singing “Watching the Wheels,” a song originally released by John Lennon and Yoko Ono on their 1980 record, “Double Fantasy.” Dave’s performance of this tune was broadcast on December, 8th, 2005, by a Sirius Satellite radio station, as a tribute to John Lennon’s life.

As soon as as I saw the clip, I knew that I would need to write an article about it. But for a moment, I hesitated, worried that my frequent choice of cover-songs, as of late, could indicate some sort of growing distance between me and DMB. Was I running out of things to say about their original work? As distasteful as that thought might be, I had to let it play out in my mind, in order to loosen it’s grip on my psyche. And, as so often is the case when we face our doubts, what I found, was just the opposite of what I feared. What’s happening, it seems, is that tracks that I may have heard thousands of times before take on a whole new meaning for me, once I experience Dave’s version of them. His voice resonates with me, and, surely, millions of others, in such a powerful way that new connections form in the shadowy synapses of our brains, making once hollow words sound like deeply profound phrases.

On a bio-chemical level, I’m really not sure if there would be any evidence to support the validity of what I’m saying. But on an anecdotal level, I can attest to having an unremarkable reaction to various lyrics, only to have the wind knocked out of me after hearing Dave sing those same verses. It may simply be that Dave’s voice triggers a relaxation response in my brain, making me more susceptible to important insights. Or, it could be that he is magic.

In any event, when I heard Dave’s rendition of “Watching the Wheels,” the lyrics, “I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round. I really love to watch them roll. No longer riding on the merry-go-round. I just had to let it go,” suddenly clicked for me in a very poignant way. Although everyone can, of course, read in what they are needing to, for me this signifies the refusal to stay on the hectic rat-wheel that life in our society often prescribes. Too often, work, for the sole purpose of making more and more money, becomes the driving force behind our existence, and before we know it, these short lives of ours are coming to an end. As if to support this idea, the images in this beautiful montage feature both Dave Matthews and John Lennon with their beloved family members, reminding us of what is truly important. And too, we are taken back to LeRoi Moore’s tragic death, as a solemn depiction of our fragile states. Dave also introduces this number with a remark about the synchronicity between the debut of this melody and John Lennon’s death, which I believe, further testifies to the idea that these verses call for priority to be placed on love of life, rather than externally derived measures of success.

If I were born of a different time, perhaps the tenor notes of John Braham or the genius strokes of Niccolo Paganini’s violin would be the instruments that make my soul soar. But, as it were, only the penetrating sounds of Dave’s voice invariably shake up my bones and feet, leaving me right here, lying in the hands of God.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

Yesterday, I found out that one of my favorite movies of all time, “Titanic,” is coming back to theaters this April. At first, I was surprised, but then I realized that this makes perfect sense, considering the current state of affairs in this country. One of the most memorable scenes in this film has to be near the end, when the ship is sinking, and only the rich are allowed into the inadequate number of life-boats that were boarded onto the craft. Too many floatation devices would have dirtied the beautiful image of this boat, making it clear that the decision makers valued looks over lives. In any event, as chaos ensued, and people perished in the frigid waters of the sea, the small orchestra played as if nothing was amiss.

In some ways, this is exactly what I feel is happening in our society right now. America is sinking, and it seems that those in charge have only provided for the wealthiest few. Naturally, and finally, this has led to protests around the nation, urging law-makers to re-integrate fairness into our corporate systems. Some, like the musicians on the iconic vessel, are standing by waiting for the crisis to pass. Though, despite the peaceful nature of those speaking their minds, things have turned violent. 

On Friday, a University of California at Davis police officer was caught on camera as he doused several non-resisting students with pepper spray. In an excellent article about this event, “The Washington Post,” reports that this “non-lethal” weapon, “can cause tissue damage, respiratory distress, and in rare cases, death.” Why then, would a campus cop use such an instrument on people who were not posing any danger? Of course, this story, and the accompanying videos have caused outrage for many, and in at least one case, have served as the basis for some pretty amazing art.

In a famous study by Yale University Psychologist, Stanley Milgram, participants were divided into groups where some of the individuals were asked to deliver electric shocks to others. (This is the kind of thing researchers were allowed to do before we had ethics committees!) Anyway, the findings of this experiment showed that ordinary people, under the command of authority, would forgo their own morals and inflict pain on others if that’s what they were told to do. These results were imperative in understanding the mechanisms which led so many to obey the Nazi regime. And hauntingly, it seems that some of these same dynamics, which I believe become even more pronounced in a questionable economy, continue to be at play.

History aside, we all need to find a way to stop the violence now. Stefan Lessard has been very vocal about this on his facebook page, and probably on Twitter, but Twitter drives me to distraction. In a recent post, Stefan urged us to “Push Love. Occupy Your Heart.” Thank you, Stefan! At a time when it seems our grace is gone, it’s words like these that turn water into wine.   

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about karma. As it turns out, this simple word holds a plethora of complex definitions, but, to me, it symbolizes a Universal law of balance. In other words, for every action there is an equal reaction, on some level, although we may not witness said reaction. I like to think of it this way, mainly because it makes me feel that I don’t have to be the one to egg my neighbor’s house to show my disgust at their neglect toward their incessantly barking dogs. No need to waste my eggs. Karma will take care of it.

When we free ourselves of the need to be the ones to exact revenge on another person, we open up a resource of energy that can be utilized in a much more fulfilling way. Sure acting out may feel good at the time, and as Mindy Kaling, from “The Office,” jokes in her new book entitled, “Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?” we had better “push, shove, (and) scratch that person while they’re still within arm’s reach...(because)...who knows when you’ll get this opportunity again?”  But in reality, after the adrenaline has worn off, we still have to face ourselves in the mirror. And no matter how unfair the actions against us may seem, it is only our own deeds that determine who we really are.

Although, surely there are many Dave Matthews songs that speak to this topic, the one that has popped out at me today is “Ain’t it Funny How Time Slips Away,” a cover, written by Willie Nelson, which DMB began performing in 2001. True, these aren’t Dave’s native words, but as I have previously said, I believe that the tunes that end up being played by the band must resonate with the artists in some way to make it into their repertoire. In any event, this ballad describes a man, (for simplicity’s sake), who runs into an old flame, and asks her about her new love. The lyrics suggest that the man in the story was dumped, traded in, or maybe even cheated on, by the woman. But the hero of this tale doesn’t waste his time or energy trying to make bad things happen to his ex; instead he tells her that “in time, you’re gonna pay,” and reminds her that “time slips away.”

Another good thing about just letting things go and leaving consequences up to the Universe, is that beating ourselves up over past misdeeds also becomes irrelevant. Of course, we strive not to make the same mistakes again, (which, by the way, is one definition of insanity), but believing in an all-encompassing balancing agent certainly takes some of the pressure off. This is what I imagine Dave to be speaking to when he sings, “I was just wondering if you’d come along, hold up my head when my head won’t hold on,” in “The Stone,” a haunting track about a man wrestling with his past. Clearly, one could make the case that Dave is pleading to anyone; a higher power, a friend, a lover, or some unacknowledged aspect of himself. But that is what makes music so beautiful and so strange. You never know.

But, for today, I will keep my eggs in their container, and try my hardest to only let my best thoughts become actions. Everything else is out of my hands.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

Sometimes, when inspiration seems a little sparse, I venture out to a movie in search of a thought, or a theme, that seems, somehow, relevant. Relevant to what, I’m never sure, but, inevitably, and, at times, in spite of myself, the dots always connect.

Yesterday was no exception. The feature was “Midnight in Paris,” a wonderful film, directed by Woody Allen, about a man, (Owen Wilson), who is convinced that living in an earlier, simpler, time would have been better for him. It’s a very entertaining 94 minutes, especially if you enjoy Parisian scenery, and/or the eternal wisdom of some of the greatest artists, poets, and writers of all time. Plus, most of the other flicks out right now stem from the horror genre, and I’ve just never understood why people pay to be terrified. Aren’t the trials and tribulations of every day life scary enough? But I digress.

The point that I’m really trying to make here is that “Midnight in Paris” showcases a motif that many of us can relate to, and, as usual, it’s an idea that is not lost on Dave Matthews.  Much of his work demonstrates a longing for a less complex existence. In “Proudest Monkey,” a song often considered to reference the band’s rise to stardom from humble beginnings, Dave talks about a “monkey” who leaves the safety of his forest for the excitement of the city, only to wonder whether he would have been happier in the woods after all. Then, later, in “Big Eyed Fish,” Dave decidedly swears, (pun intended), that the monkey should have stayed up in his tree. So, what does all this really mean?

As Ani DiFranco says, in her mind-blowing poem, “Self-Evident,” we are 90% metaphor, which, to me, means that everything that happens occurs on many different levels. (In other words, a cigar is not always just a cigar.) And, as luck would have it, this particular masterpiece, which according to Ms. DiFranco, is her attempt to wrap her head around the horrifying events of September 11th, also speaks of the innocence of a time before our reliance on fossil fuels became so pronounced. If you haven’t yet heard this piece, be warned, it is intense.

But what if there really is no golden age? What if, as Dave says, the future, (nor the past), is no place to place our better days? Is it possible for us to learn from our mistakes and look forward to tomorrow while still living in the present?

I believe that it is human nature to want to climb out of our safe limbs and explore. Yes, progress brings problems, but if we can keep our heads up, walking tall and singing, we just might see that what we have right now really is the best of what’s around. There may always be an imagined time, place, or space that seems better on the other side, and sometimes, understandably, we may want to run while we can, but in the end, only love will open our eyes. From the dark side we can see a glow of something bright.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

Steve Jobs, 56, died, yesterday, after a year-long battle with pancreatic cancer. Oddly, I first saw this news on facebook, and suffice it to say, that it was quite a surreal experience to be on my Mac reading posts of remembrance to the inventor of all things Apple.

There are many reasons why I think a dedication to the life of Steve Jobs belongs here, on a Dave Matthews Band website. First, it seems to me that Steve and Dave have many things in common. They are both visionary geniuses who changed their divergent fields, and they both have a passion for detail. Today, I found out that Mr. Jobs designed the sleep light indicator for all Mac computers to illuminate at the speed of 12 glows per minute to match the average breathing rate of an adult person! Who thinks of things like this? Steve Jobs. And, as anyone who has ever tried to play DMB music can attest, Dave Matthews.

Steve and Dave also share an undeniable ability to inspire others, drawing fans from all walks of life to Apple, and the Dave Matthews Band, respectively. And they have both encountered criticism from those who would call their brand of wisdom “hype,” without substance. But it is, I imagine, their wish to believe in something greater than themselves that sets both of these men apart from other media icons. In a moving address to the graduates of Stanford University in 2005, Steve Jobs said:

You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You     have to trust in something; your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has     never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

This sentiment is reminiscent of so many of Dave’s lyrics, where he has expressed a hope that “there is someone out there in the heaven’s looking back down on us,” even if he concedes that we will “never know.”  

But perhaps the most striking synchronicity between the philosophies of these two leaders has to be their views on death. In that same Stanford commencement, Apple’s co-founder offered these profound words:

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything, all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure, these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. Stay hungry. Stay foolish.

In other words, take these chances, don’t burn the day, and above all, just look for the love in it, because in the end, naked you will see that we are all the same.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

Rest in Peace, Steve Jobs (1955-2011)

Last night, I watched a fantastic documentary called “Music,” in which over 50 musicians from various genres discussed the subtle idiosyncrasies of their field. Bands such as Smashing Pumpkins, My Morning Jacket, Vampire Weekend, and Death Cab for Cutie were all represented, as well as, appearances from artists like Ani DiFranco, Lenny Kravitz, Ziggy Marley, Chrissie Hynde, Iggy Pop, and Fiona Apple.   

The film focuses on many untouchable aspects of this art, including that uniquely spiritual place where music often leaves the unsuspecting listener. Almost all of the creatives interviewed agree that they provide portals to an ongoing and everlasting stream of sound that exists outside, in the Universe, and that their best work is done when they remember to get out of their own way. In other words, after intense devotion to learning and practice, the ideal output only comes when one separates from her ego, and is open to the flow of energy that comes through organically. What a modest thought, and it is, I believe, not only the cornerstone of all great art, but also, the way in which Dave Matthews approaches his work. With Dave, there is a clear understanding that each song takes on a life of it’s own, which transcends the existence of the writer. Recently, I heard one of my favorite versions of #40, after which Dave says, “I keep working on it, hoping it will come back. This is my first most recent draft. Thank you for indulging me.” What a great acknowledgment, indicating that this track will only return as she so desires. Dave truly is a humble monkey.
 
Another point of consensus among the performers in the broadcast is that music is indescribable. After much thought, rock icon, Iggy Pop, finally named it as an activity that requires less concentration than reading a dense piece of literature, but more involvement than watching television or a movie. Similarly, Fiona Apple characterized it as an entity that falls somewhere between a conversation and sex, meaning that there is a level of engagement, an intimacy, and a knowing of each-other that exists someplace between conventional lines. And isn’t that how much of music is written? Between the lines?

Of course, this reminds me of Dave’s lyrics in “The Space Between,” where he points to the gaps inside of things like tears, lies, bullets, and smiles, within which he promises to wait and hide. But probably my favorite line from this piece reads, “The space between, your heart and mine, is the space we’ll fill with time.” Interestingly, DMB almanac has these words listed as “The space between your heart and mind,” which is equally insightful, but I’ve always considered Dave to be speaking of that luminous divide that exists where one person ends and another one begins. This is the place of communication, connection, and relationship where love adamantly finds her way. Just as the internal chambers of our own hearts are filled with meandering pathways, so are the spaces between loved ones. And within these sacred cavities, music lives and breathes. Always.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self

As promised, the Dave Matthews Band rocked Washington State last weekend for the 15th consecutive year. Just a few of the highlights from the group’s most recent stint at the Gorge Amphitheatre include, surprise fan favorites, such as: “American Baby Intro,” “Big Eyed Fish,” “#40,” “Loving Wings,” “Shotgun,” “Raven,” “Halloween,” “Seek Up,” and a killer “Lie In Our Graves,” which, amazingly, wrapped itself around seven unsuspecting tunes. But perhaps the biggest bombshell was dropped during the encore of night two, when the band busted out Blue Öyster Cult's 1976 hit, “Don’t Fear The Reaper.”

Written by Blue Öyster Cult's lead guitarist Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser, this song appears on their 1976 album, “Agents of Fortune,” and grew in popularity to the point that it is now listed as number 405 in “Rolling Stone”s list of the top 500 tracks of all time.

It’s always interesting to me to speculate the reasons behind the new covers that the band chooses to play. In this case, we know that this single has been performed by Yukon Cornelius, bassist Stefan Lessard’s ensemble; so it is possible that he introduced the idea to Dave and the boys. But still, there had to be something about this number that caught the men’s attention and motivated them to make it their own.

Besides the obvious fact that it is an awesome jam, we need not look too far to recognize the synchronicity between the theme of this ditty, and that of so many originated by DMB. With lyrics like,

    Seasons don’t fear the reaper,
    Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain,
    We can be like they are,
    Come on baby,
    Don’t fear the reaper,

it seems as if the message to live for the now, without letting the fear of death ruin your time on this Earth, comes through pretty clearly. Interestingly, some have looked upon these words and imagined that the writer was discussing a murder-suicide, but Dharma insists that he intended just the opposite. On this topic, he says:

"I felt that I had just achieved some kind of resonance with the psychology of people when I came up with that, I was actually kind of appalled when I first realized that some people were seeing it as an advertisement for suicide or something that was not my intention at all. It is, like, not to be afraid of it, (as opposed to actively bringing it about). It’s basically a love song, where the love transcends the actual physical existence of the partners."

With that description on hand, we can absolutely see how this motif fits in closely with phrases that Dave has transcribed himself. When it comes down to it, it’s all about love. And part of loving life is accepting that death is the natural outcome of our existence. We don’t need to fear it, avoid it, or challenge it. We too can be like the seasons, the wind, the sun, and the rain, all of whom understand the cosmic necessity of change.

Hayley Bauman, Psy.D.

Author of Serendipity and the Search for True Self