The Trombone

Stan is 70

When he grew his hair and formed a band his grandfather made uncharacteristic noises of disapproval.

But that didn’t stop him. He went into a musical world of his own and somehow, for the last 50 years, despite life’s ups and downs, made a fair living from gigs.

He lights up on stage. Is funny and melancholy and the long years of banter between him and his band is easy and spontaneous. 

Being at one of their gigs is like being in a comfortable armchair in your front room with the added spell of captivating, warm hearted connection and fifties jazz.

He has knee pain which he says is from the ridiculous amount of driving he does.

He also says that he feels a little weary these days. 

He says all this while looking out of the window or at the floor…. somewhat in retreat.

My sense…. my response…. is of being drawn in yet held off.

A kind of push pull that elicits a brake to natural flow.

I wonder about this brake.

“What ails thee?” hovers silently in my curiosity.

This while I bring my hands to his feet…. I am drawn here unexpectedly.

He is sitting.

I start to speak about effort and support. Bones and muscles. Function and balance.

His ankles and feet are beginning to soften a little with a corresponding freeing of the hips.

I talk about the knee… how the globe shaped condyles of the femur nestle in their reciprocal “saucers” of the tibia.

How being in perpetual slight “knees bend” is hard on the knees and over time leads to a sense of overall drained energy…. that the bones would love to do their job of support.

“I sag don’t I?” he says ruefully

So where is your “stuffing” now?

“All gone south!”

Over time we work on support (bones) and release (muscles) and bringing an alert yet peaceful vitality to the nervous system.

Sensitivity to the inner and outer environment. 

Direction that is uplifting in response to the support of the ground.

Just sometimes it’s as though there is a heavy “overcoat” that seems to pass through the generations and that not only does not fit the wearer, but which causes weighty constraint…. and with Stan there was an occasional mention of men, relatives, incarceration during World war two. Of never being able to speak of unspeakable things.

Of the onus of responsibility and gratitude.

Of how decisions he had made as a teenager had appeared to be risky or even “drop out”.

As though he even felt a burden of guilt at having survived so long in an industry that can be fickle and uncertain.

The last time I saw him, he was his usual self-deprecating presence on stage…. but he had turned round a bit.