On Moving Toward the Rest I Have Chosen in 2024, with Some Insight from Schubert's "Du bist die Ruh'" and Maestro Carlos Kleiber

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

Have you ever slept so well that you had an out-of-body experience and saw yourself deeply resting? A little later that day I found the music for it, and just floated along for some time from late on January 14 to late on January 15 as if still in this dream of baritone John Brancy singing "Du bist die Ruh" by Schubert ...

The out-of-body experience was in the late afternoon of January 14, 2024 -- I closed year 42 with a bang that day. I left it all on the field. Big church service after rehearsing a third of the choir on the fly, big book giveaway with a fellow author in which we opened the doors to change financial futures --

-- all kinds of up, down, and around ... I gave my literal utmost ... and would pay for it, later, having forgotten that what I needed to do on my actual birthday was rest, physically ... but even then, even though January 15 is Martin Luther King Day in the United States, there were still legitimate needs that needed to be met, and after that, my soul cried for my favorite hill AND I missed my bus from where I was, so, all things considered, what should have been a short walk became about two miles too many, although I cannot say that I regretted it. I needed the complete lesson to make sense of some things almost 30 years under consideration.

On one hand, the vistas before me in year 43 are so beautiful... this was my dawn...

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

And, after my business was done, this was my view looking up Market Street to Portola Heights, which is out there on my walking list of the future...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

Golden Gate Bridge and the bell tower on Lone Mountain off in the distance from the pure western approach to the top of Buena Vista Hill...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... while Sutro Tower loomed from behind a home, waiting on Sutro Hill for me to climb to it in the future, with winter's filigree gracing the other edge of the picture...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

When at last, having sat in the surprisingly warm sunshine for as long as I wished, I began my descent, ravishing views of other local hills met me ... vistas of the future to my north and northwest ...

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... and to my west as I stopped at the Frederick Street staircase, the Pacific Ocean sat calmly, with the Farallon Islands just barely distant 30 miles away... open again in April...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

Coming down still further and looking northward, the gold of the late afternoon still shone around me although the shadows were growing in the valleys...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... and I found where autumn had not yet given up its splendors ...

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... and spring already asserting its rights!

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

At every turn on my descent, some wonder of light awaited me ...

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... if not a drawing of such delicacy of blue that took my breath away ...

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... until at last I met Golden Gate Park, far down in the valley that I had seen from the top, with a gentleman in the park near the crosswalk looking upward at the glories of the hill, and doing what I was doing ... taking photos!

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

From here all the last winter gold of the day decided that it would make its show, literally in the last ten minutes ...

Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

... and in the very last photo you can begin to see how close the shadows were behind me and the runners, for by the time I made it to the corner and looked back, all that had gone from the valley -- but I had been in time!

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024

There was some unpleasantness from cramping later ... but again I rested well, and that caused me to remember the song that had intrigued me over the weekend ... I have been asked to find some more living singers, and so young baritone Andrew Ashwin gives us a wonderful, tender performance, which actually, combined with the comments section, got across to me that this is not a hymn, although "You are the Rest, and Gentle Joy" is indeed addressed to a person ... the women in the comments were talking about how gorgeous Mr. Ashwin is and how this made this easy listening...

... but I started to panic.

"No. No! NO! Oh, NO!"

The Ghost of Musical Greatness Past instantly appeared, in his improvised Day Watchman costume at about age 68, and wrapped a strong arm around me.

"Keine Angst, Frau Mathews," he said as he gathered me up with his gentle but commanding double-deep speaking voice. "*Nur ruhe ... nur ruhe."

Next to that, Andrew Ashwin might as well have been singing tenor harmony, and that was fine ... I'm trying to love more baritones, and I might even add to my sopranos beside Jessye Norman, Kathleen Battle, and Leontyne Price, but get me a bass for my peace, and while getting a bass if I have my choice, I do have a favorite among operatic basses ...

"Which makes the point in the song you are not getting yet, Frau Mathews, and it is important that you get it ... but we will start where you are ... what has so frightened you, mein kind?"

"I can't deal with these Romantics, and those silly girls in the comments -- they are all heading for a Winterreise -- this is where the foolery starts!"

My companion thought about this for a long, long time.

"So, this is a Schubert prequel to that young man being heartbroken, but few know it," he said.

"Yes! You can't be telling mere people that they are the peace and the joy, and to come on into you and live, to take possession, eyes, and heart and lock the door of your soul behind them -- that's idolatry! And all those silly girls thinking all that is cute -- not old enough to know what men of that mind do looking for a new idol when they have to be human and the idol shine falls off of them! On a good day, one gets Strauss's 'Der Einsame' or Schubert's Winterreise -- but in this country, it is more often that a man will realize the danger you hinted at in your interpretation of 'Gute Nacht' and not leave quietly, and take out on that woman all his fury because she can't be what he demands she be, in his contest with God!"

"I see why you are rattled by this utterly lovely song, Frau Mathews -- it is true that, misapplied, it could indeed lead to deep trouble. I know that for you, in light of your past year, there was only One to Whom you could go, to Whom you would ever so completely yield, and I also know, because you are a person of deep responsibility, that you would not want the burden of someone considering you in this manner."

"My legs are a mess right now, but I would RUN like the wind!"

"I think we have discussed why you are decidedly not a Romantic, and I understand -- klar, Frau Mathews. Yet I did not expect this song, of all songs, to strike you like that when you took to it so well at first."

"Well, there are some living singers that can really sing ... and since a certain father master-singer eagle seems to be wanting to shove me out of the nest this year, I'm flapping around and finding good singers. John Brancy is wonderful."

The master singer laughed in the spirit.

"I knew you would, my young contralto eaglet," he said. "Mr. Brancy is wonderful, and Mr. Ashwin is very young -- his baritone will firm up with age to get more to the bass side that you like, although you are terribly spoiled, Frau Mathews, and I suppose it is my fault, which is why I have to nudge you out to love your contemporaries a little more!"

"I'm trying," I said.

"Yet consider this, Frau Mathews. Why am I your favorite? There are and have been beautiful male voices aplenty. I was not considered among the most beautiful voice types -- a basso cantante generally holds that rank -- nor the most Italianate, and even I knew that and stayed in German much of the time. Apparently, even then, my so-called butter-smooth consonants are causing trouble for some listeners."

"OK, but, see, German is my still-half-forgotten second language that I had only two years in -- that critique really doesn't count," I said. "That's my problem, not yours."

"Oh, all of these were really other people's problems, Frau Mathews, because remember: I don't have trouble with anyone! But also, no one had trouble with me either! There were and are too many singers to choose from!

"My Winterreise is almost lost to history -- my starting take with my big voice is to let the listener know just how big and how angry and how dangerous that man could have been, and that indeed does not please the ear of those looking for a more Romantic take. Yet you would not stay with Florian Boesch or Matthew Goerne, or even your beloved Martti Talvela -- although we will consider that a tie because you and I both love him deeply, and you began and returned to his Winterreise for more insight. Yet you did not find peace to fully explore Winterreise until when?"

I thought about it ... and then it came to me ...

"Oh ... Sie sind die Ruh, Herr Möll," I said, adjusting the verbs for formal German speech out of respect.

"How many times, Frau Mathews, has that been the case? Remember: some things are true because they are. It is one thing if you go looking for someone to always be that person, and are never satisfied. It is another thing if you run into your match -- if you are granted that as you are living honestly in your calling. This is why Schubert's 'Du bist der Ruh' is not actually a blasphemy, although misapplied, it could be."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief ... indeed, this cleared the matter up.

"I know you tried to find a recording of me singing the song," he said gently, "and you can guess who might have been the only mortal to hear it regularly from me."

"Frau Ursula Möll, of course," I said.

"And, following that thought, had your grand old basso profundo soldier been younger, you might have been granted to duet on that to each other."

"Perhaps ... for he and I walked many lovely days in perfect peace in Golden Gate Park ... many years ... ."

And then my first flood of tears came ... I did understand, after all!

"You see, Frau Mathews, you would run from a Romantic's idea about this song or any love song -- for so this is. You can think about yielding to the Holy Spirit of God around Galatians 5 and match 'Du bist die Ruh' up very well -- Schubert was raised Catholic, after all, and you are also not wrong in understanding that in the Romantic period, European men did indeed try to find their Muse in mortal women and got into a great deal of trouble. So, you can very well take 'Du bist die Ruh' and direct it upward, and you would have done no harm, in the same way that Strauss's 'Zweignung' can be considered and has been mildly rewritten to purpose. If you choose to remain a single woman, that is actually the wisest thing to do -- and if you marry, you still would only differ by one mortal, in all the Earth. See that he measures up, Frau Mathews. Be very sure that he brings peace into your life, and is a man of honorable peace. My Winterreise tells the truth -- your life depends on that assessment, for you are not wrong in understanding the peril of having to dismiss a man who is inclined to violence."

"Ich sehe -- klar, Herr Möll," I said. "Why I am right over here staying in my single lane, in a nutshell -- I'm good on all that until the actual Prince of Peace says otherwise!"

"Which brings me around to your rest of yesterday, Frau Mathews, and why you walked alone today. Where are your many companions of ages 25 to age 42, mein kind, and why are you sleeping so well without any of them still in your life? Why are you so, so tired, meine Töchterlein? What does it mean now, to have chosen to rest?"

I thought back over my life in those years, and then came the second flood of tears...

"Everyone is gone," I said. "Most are still alive ... but with them I could find no peace or rest for my soul."

"So, you or they moved on, and mostly you, although you tried so hard for so long," he said, very gently. "But you see, Frau Mathews, without assigning any shame or blame in any direction: it was not granted that you should remain in those places and spaces and friendships and relationships. You work hard. You love hard. You give hard. You have great depth of intellect and soul and you want to invest it all ... but it was not granted that you should run aground, Frau Mathews, and be shipwrecked in ports of call that are not for you. Nor is it necessary that you should do that, to find rest."

He pulled out his ethereal handkerchief for me, and waited for a long time for me to compose myself.

"Tell me again of your recurring dream on December 24 and December 25th, mein kind," he said.

"Ah, if I could only write what I heard that choir of my dreams singing!" I said. "It was Matthew 11:28 and the invitation of Christ Himself -- 'Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' It was so loud it woke me up -- so loud it changed my take on Sundays and holidays, for those have often been stressful times for me as a church choir director ... but not over this cycle, although there have been terrible moments -- when the ants moved into the piano and I still chose to play that concert was a tough one."

"We were so moved on high, Frau Mathews, that you chose to love your elders and bless them, and not even kill the ant that crawled out on your hand," he said. "I am not ashamed to say that I wept for joy, for at that time I knew you had discovered the great secret of exaltation: humility. Never have you played as you played then!"

"I felt such overwhelming peace, and out of it, the Christmas medley flowed. It was a terrible situation ... but out of humility and peace came such power."

"Do you even realize, Frau Mathews, that you have returned to the place of your musical and artistic height of power again -- or rather, scaled a new height?"

I had to think about that for a long moment.

"It kind of snuck up on me," I said.

"It has been doing so for a while!" he said. "You just carried a whole church full of people into choir excellence and considering financial freedom -- you are just sweeping folks around like several musicians you admire!"

"Present company included," I said.

"But you see, Frau Mathews, it is your time. I have been saying this since the beginning with you. Now for the past three weeks, you have healed enough to begin to really lean into it because you have found peace, absent the distractions. You decided to believe what you heard on Christmas Eve! You have chosen to say, Gott, Sie dank -- Sie sind die Ruh! and looked away from all those that have broken your heart, even though your heart is still not fully healed."

"It is very important for me to learn to stop expecting of people what they have no capacity to give," I said. "Years 41 and 42 taught me the futility of that, and that I need to accept the fact much earlier."

I breathed a deep sigh ... and let my heart break more, to release more of the pain.

"My personal task in year 43, because I am an overachiever, is to accept more of this reality and do still less," I said. "I try so hard, Herr Möll ... and have been hurt so much for not accepting that people want what they want from me, but not necessarily what I truly have to give, and all that it can do if it is met with a mind to grow and build in reciprocity. Most people are not of that mind, so, for them, I must do still less, and why? So I can rest. So I can deeply rest. I slept so well, Herr Moll, that my brain could not even believe it and took me outside of me to see it ... because I am so tired ... so tired ... I was so tired at the end of my 42nd year it frightened me, so I overdid it more than a bit the next day, the first day of my 43rd ... I mean, there needed to be a reason ... any reason but the reason ... ."

"You had to walk by that path to learn, Frau Mathews," he said. "You notice I did not join you. You had to look back upon the heights you have achieved, and the depths of the anguish for yourself -- you not-quite-accidentally reviewed, physically, all that you needed to. Your father was an athlete, so there is a sense in which you are also a kinetic learner of a particular type. But, having done it, what have you chosen in the days since -- what have you understood?

"I must continue to choose rest, or I will break my physical heart as surely as I will my true one, over-compensating and overdoing where it is not called for."

"A bit more precision there, mein kind, is needed, for surely not in 405 years in your country has someone not been demanding the labor of women like you, to the point of death if need be."

"Not called for by Him Who called me, and said, I WILL GIVE YOU REST," I said.

"Sehr gut, mein kind. Those are the true stakes, for One wants to rest you, and others want what they want and will gladly let you work your fingers to the bone and still not be satisfied or helped, for they will not do the things that make for their own peace.

"But also ... mein kind ... meine Tochterlein ... this is a harder matter, for even when there is mutual love of family, friends, and community, the more mature person has the burden of managing their expectations."

He paused, and then said, "I see we are not breaking the Hive post size limits this week, Frau Mathews."

"No. I have learned my lesson there also."

"Apply that wisdom to everyone you know, Frau Mathews. You must observe your limits, and also the limits of others in terms of how much they can receive and give. Think back, Frau Mathews. You must have this lesson now."

I did, and had a third flood of tears.

"Yours," he said, "is a special kind of loneliness, one that few can understand. If I were still capable of fear, it would be the conductor Carlos Kleiber that I would compare you to, and worry -- so gifted, so joyful when working with his fellow musicians, and yet, so alone in many ways."

The whole playlist of the documentary:

"He was not as alone as he might have been!" I said. "I felt that since he hand-picked his choice of singers when he conducted operas, and since he was such a deep thinker about all aspects of the music and the stories behind them, I could guess his favorite basso profundo not by voice, but by mind and heart -- and I was right!"

My companion chuckled.

"You were so adorable, cheering in your kitchen -- 'I knew it! I knew it' -- all those great singers and musicians who got more than a photograph shown and a few seconds of singing in that documentary, and you were looking and listening for some 'little' bass... ."

"Well, if Leonard Bernstein and Carlos Kleiber looked for him multiple times for their biggest moments conducting operas, masses, and oratorios, you're going to have to give me a pass on that, sir!"

He laughed.

"Yet this again makes the point. Maestro Bernstein's conducting was a full-body and soul experience ... Maestro Kleiber sometimes literally danced while wearing the most wonderful smile ... so, there was a natural match to a certain bouncing bass of that time who in the age of camera work was indeed caught smiling at every moment he did not have to make an actual note, and because he could make those notes from B flat 1 to G4, was also practically serviceable for just about any part for the better part of 40 years!"

"A basso profundo baritone," I said. "Too much weight at the low end to ever pass as a baritone, but service-wise, indeed that came out."

"But that was not the reason -- those two men and any other conductors of that exalted caliber could have and did have dozens of basses and baritones lining up to handle all of that," he said.

"I know that," I said. "Like I said, I knew Carlos Kleiber had chosen you for the same reason that I did ... the most beautiful basso profundo voice wedded with the most beautiful mind, and beautifully deep, peaceful, joyful spirit. With you in the role, he had peace about it ... 'du bist die Ruh' ... I get it now."

He reached over and turned John Brancy right back on, and we floated for a while in perfect contentment in that loveliness. He waited a while before speaking afterward.

"As Maestro Kleiber illustrates, Frau Mathews, there is a certain isolation that comes with certain privileges. From age 16 to age 41, you did not understand that it is ... hmmmmm ... how do you young people say this -- 'a feature, not a bug,' of the system!"

I laughed heartily at his appropriation of that modern phrase!

"At age 42, you began to return to what for you is the actual center ... back to peace, back to holy solitude ... you began to seek rest, even though you did not yet fully understand that was what you were doing. To that you are called, Frau Mathews. Though you may yet serve hundreds, and thousands, and millions, there will never be a great number of people called with you at any one time, because there cannot be. You have always gone to and from the crowd, and gladder from. Covid-19 deepened that, but it was always there. You have always found peace in things deep, but not broad: your Christian faith detached from the United States models for it, your friendships, your pursuits, your deep life as a multi-talented artist known in full only on Hive.

"Now, understand, at age 43: these things are yours. They are not everyone's, and you can no more remake anyone else than you can allow them to remake you ... so, you can rest from all that labor. Embrace what is yours, and Him Who has granted all of it to you, and rest, Frau Mathews. Have I not been telling you this from the beginning?"

"There has definitely been an echo around here for a while," I said gently. "It seems to have gotten deeper as I have been able to hear it."

"'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,'" he quoted. "There is no end to the height and depth of resources in the hand on Him Who has called you ... but as you are ready, bit by bit, you shall hear and understand more. There also receive instruction: your eagerness to learn is known, but also, your human limits ... take note of how you are finite, and be gentle with others and yourself as well."

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 17, 2024

"Happy Birthday, Frau Mathews -- alles gute zum Geburtstag. Years 41 and 42 were very difficult for you, but with their lessons, new vistas open before you in year 43 that you can now venture into ... but you need not do too much with too many. You can rest now, Frau Mathews."

His eyes twinkled merrily.

"I am tempted to sing the end portion of 'Death and the Maiden' and put you right to sleep, but see, you know to cover your ears and run!"

"You did that a bit too well," I said. "Had that sounding like a good idea for lonely maidens, but you see I was putting my running shoes back on from young Mr. Ashwin and his fans -- so you already know! And they said that you couldn't play a villain -- you managed Death, the last enemy, too well!"

"We shall talk another day about villains as opposed to actual elemental forces, with angels in between," he said. "As I have said to you today, some things just are true. You also would not make a good actress for a villain, but there are people around you who know you as a force, because that is true."

He considered that another moment, and then added, "It is not easy to love or to be loved as a person when you are gifted like that ... but in walking with kindness wedded with wisdom, you can love anyone to the extent they are prepared, and not breach your own strong boundaries from within -- not breaking your position of rest, Frau Mathews. For if you are walking by faith with One Who is saying, 'I will give you rest,' then there is no need to either expect or to over-compensate so much, because you already have all that you need! On January 15, your 43rd birthday you did not even miss me, Frau Mathews, and I was so glad, for although physically you did get beyond your limits, your spirit, content with God, His Creation, and your own company, was at rest!"

I thought back.

"You know ... ." I said.

He laughed.

"Did I not say you would outgrow me, Frau Mathews? I will not say 'I told you so' ... at least not in English, but ... aber habe ich es dir gesagt!"

"Do you really want me to tell you off in two languages -- again? Wieder?"

"Oh, go on and make me laugh, Frau Mathews!"

"I'm just going to have to use this rest time to get started on my German classes again, because I let you make the cut into my 2024, and here you are starting again, because, see --."

He was rolling laughing, and as Laughter as much as Death, he was perfectly irresistible ... so we laughed, and he was smiling as he turned on John Brancy singing again before departing.

"Although three days delayed, alles Gute zum Geburtstag, Frau Mathews. Nur ruhe ... keine Angst ... nur ruhe!"

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 15, 2024