You Humans Talk a Lot About ‘Mindfulness’
From my position in the lounge, I can hear the clattering of pots and pans being, well, almost thrown around the kitchen, to a mashed-up soundtrack of swearing and self-chat. It's not anger; he doesn't get angry. He says he's too chilled out for that. However, there is a change in the atmosphere; the air feels heavier in the room. It gets heavier still as the person causing the imbalance gets nearer. It's weird that even without words, it's quite obvious that there's a problem; neither of us knows what it might be. Any minute now, I'll be called upon for support, to pose, and possibly answer silently asked questions.
Since coming over to England in the early 1960s, I’ve been supporting people. First in sleep, and now, in more recent years, in waking life. Andys' waking life, in particular.
I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Iroko. I was born in Africa at the turn of the 20th century, yes, I know, that makes me approximately 125 years old, not bad, eh? That's nothing; I have been known to reach 500 years or so. In case you hadn't guessed, I am, or at least I was a tree, a West African hardwood species called Milici, to be more precise, and a mystical one at that.
In some African cultures, I am thought to possess a spirit called Olúwéré (Iroko-man); It's said that whoever sees the 'Iroko-man' face-to-face goes insane and dies. I’m not convinced but, I love hearing these stories about me and my siblings. There are probably hundreds like this, that are upheld and passed down all over the continent. Africa's people often have such a ‘deep-rooted (excuse the pun) connection to nature, they perhaps use these tales as a way of passing down moral codes, or warnings. Each generation, keeping the next safe and happy.
Anyway, I’m digressing, and I’m sensing you're still confused, and probably can't see the wood for the trees.
So, most likely in the late 1950s, I was harvested in my entirety (as was often the case), and my conversion began. I do produce beautiful planks, very straight, with tight grain and very few knots. In short, I’m a looker!
These stunning looks of mine make me perfect for becoming furniture, and so, when I finally arrived on English shores in the early 1960s, I was shaped into the form of a double bed frame by Austinsuite, founded in London in 1928. Austinsuite was widely regarded as one of the leading companies supplying fitted bedroom furniture at the time. Not long after I was created, I was bought by a lovely couple, who kept me in their house for many years, and as the man of the house was a joiner/carpenter, who never let a good plank of wood get out of his sight, he broke me down and saved my planks in his workshop, when a replacement bed was purchased, There I stayed, waiting.
In 2020, when the world was locked down due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Andy, like many people at that time, started a new hobby. He chose Cigar Box Guitar making. He’d watched a YouTube video and thought, “I could do that!” as is typical of his usual ‘have a go’ attitude.
Thanks to the US taxation of tobacco products in 1862, cigars started to be sold in boxes; these boxes, coupled with a simple broom handle, became stringed instruments. Created by those without money in their pockets, but music in their hearts. They became synonymous with Blues music and still have a huge following today. The modern versions are still handmade, often with 3 strings, and tuned to a single note or chord, for instance G, or E.
Working as an engineer in food production meant Andy continued to work through lockdown, and as his shift partner was the son of said carpenter, he asked if he had any wood suitable for a guitar neck.
And so, once again, I’m off to pastures new.
I was lovingly shaped into a guitar neck and attached to an old ornate box, originally used for storing cutlery. My collection of parts was adorned with antique bronze metal frets and fittings, and finished with 3 strings tuned to G, D, and G, producing a G major Power chord when strummed.
From that moment on, I was no longer supporting people's sleep; I was supporting Andy's wellbeing, an emotional support instrument if you will. I was never given a name in my guitar form; if you asked Andy, he would likely say ‘Geoff!’ So best not to ask.
You humans talk a lot about being ‘mindful’ these days, don't you? Downloading apps, going on retreats, meditation, Reiki, and sound baths. There is so much out there, it's hard to keep up. The number of options for reconnecting with your mind, or disconnecting (however you wish to look at it), is almost infinite, and can cause anxiety just thinking about it!
In the 5 years I've been in Andy’s company, I can see he has tried lots of these techniques, and from conversations I've overheard (I mean, I’m not eavesdropping, I’m hanging on the wall in his house for goodness sake!), he’s not had a great deal of success with any of them. Too stubborn to let them in, I shouldn't wonder!
Whether the music created during the time I’m used, is from him or me and my tree spirit, is a rhetorical question. If I were pushed for an answer, though, I'd probably say it's a combination of the two. However, the origins of the sound are not the point, are they? The act of making those sounds is what is important here.
I’m played during moments of stress, anxiety, low mood, and depression, as well as of joy and happiness, or just to pass the time, and often for “Just 5 minutes”, 2 hours later, I get placed back on my perch on the wall by a much lighter and happier Andy.
Mindfulness is the result of switching off our thinking and focusing more on doing and feeling. There is no better way of doing that than being creative with music, because it happens without having to will it. The sounds are very rarely recorded for playback, and the riffs and melodies are forgotten almost as soon as they are played. Again, that isn't the point either.
Oh, here we go, told you, I’m off the wall, and plugged into an amplifier, here's hoping we get some answers, and the neighbours better not be at home!
Image by Andy Wallis
