A story for anyone who wants to discover a path to healing within, accompanied by the song and water of life
Of Song and Water is a journey along the currents of music, nature, and healing which form the basis of our lives.
Follow the life of musician, conductor and dreamer, Rhonda Levine Muckerman, as she and her family face the challenges of addiction, loss, and illness. After the death of their son Eliot, followed by her husband's diagnosis of Parkinson's disease, Rhonda makes an inner journey from her early formation as a professional conductor, through a landscape of dreams, intuition and waterways to find ultimate healing for herself and her family.
"Of Song and Water is one of the most moving and vulnerable books I have ever read. Rhonda’s work is personal and passionate. The spiritual growth and musical journey are so tightly woven together that the two aspects become inseparable—introspective, honest, and intense. Rhonda has traveled a difficult but rewarding path. Her willingness to share that journey is impactful and at times overwhelming, being clearly unafraid to take the proverbial path less traveled that led to self-discovery and an inseparable personal relationship to the music she loves. There is never a sense of self-pity or “poor me,” only a willingness to learn from life’s experiences, good or bad, demonstrating a drive to build the best possible life. Of Song and Water inspires everyone to continue the search knowing full well that "better" is always attainable."
—Eugene Migliaro Corporon, Regents Professor of Music, Director of Wind Studies, College of Music, University of North Texas; Artistic Director/Conductor, North Texas Wind Symphony; Music Director/Conductor, Lone Star Wind Orchestra; Resident Conductor, Showa University of Music, Kawasaki City, Japan
From the world of the swallows, I sing a song to the queen of the waters. I feel like I know her intimately, from the clear water of my childhood swimming pool to the Red Cedar River at MSU. From the steam of the sweat lodge and the rains of Seattle to the swift current of the San Miguel River and the sharp, cold water of Punta Sur, I call upon her to take away our sorrows, our impurities.
The song comes from my depths, each note transmitting the power of every song I have ever sung, every piece of music I have ever played, and in that moment, I know that I am composed fundamentally of song and water. My voice resonates over my husband while ripples of water play upon his chest. I feel him relax, then inhale deeply, fully. Seconds later he sobs in a rush of air as a sense of transience permeates him. “How fleeting our lives are,” he will share with me later that evening. “We are all just passing through, and the present moment is precious.”