More and more, as I make my recordings, as I learn the language, as I slowly figure out how to connect with the people, I've realized that I don't actually know what it is that I've come here to do, what it is that I'm really looking for.
Sure, I came to study and record music: Gnawa and Berber music of Morocco, Tuareg music of Mali, maybe Sufi music of Turkey. But really- what is it I'm looking for?
Am I looking for some place where everything in my heart and spirit resounds with a “yes!”? Am I looking to belong somewhere because the music moves me? Am I looking for some kind of realization that will transform my life? Am I hoping to find some kind of long lost connection that will shed new light on my purpose on this planet? Like the reason why the sound of the guimbri speaks to me, why I can't walk past Gnawa music without feeling my body pulled in the direction of the sound?
All I've ever really known about this trip was that I felt a kind of hunger, a kind of unidentifiable pull from my gut to this part of the world, without really clearly understanding what it was exactly I was pining for. All I understood was that it wasn't an option to not go, to not follow the pull.
This hunger- I don't know what it is I'm needing to feed, or the nature of the sustenance I'm seeking, really.
Yet, my heart brought me here. It's like my heart knows a secret it can't name. Or it is whispering the secret so softly that I can't quite make it out and I just have to follow whatever little signals, clues and subtle, directional indications come along.
I have lots of free time to think about these things which can be both a blessing and a curse. When I'm not out exploring the town, I spend my days and nights doing a lot of reading, thinking and writing. And still, the same pressing questions and urges in my gut are with me: who the heck is Tamara Turner and what is my purpose here, whether it's my purpose in Morocco or in general?
And when I start to wonder all of these things- because I want to be true to the instinct that brought me all this way, for *some* good reason- it occurs to me that whatever it is we're doing in life, whether it's traveling or working, staying still or moving, what is it that ANY of us are really after, after all?
If I were still at home, comfortable and well-fed and freshly showered and digestively-healthy in my little cottage in Portland, what is it I'd be looking for, really looking for in this life? What is it that any of us are really ever hungry for, what is it that any of us are really here to do? Surely, it's not just to make money, have a little fun and procreate.
Just because we change our scenery, change our surroundings, change our daily habits, take on new hobbies, new languages, and travel the world, it doesn't mean we have changed ourselves. It doesn't necessarily mean we're growing. So I remind myself of this- that there's some reason I'm here to do something I couldn't do back home and just being in Morocco alone isn't what it's about: it's not enough to just change my surroundings and daily routine.
Change alone doesn't change us. Not at the core, not long-term.
So after repeatedly asking myself, “what is it that I'm really wanting to do here, what is it that I'm after?," finally, for the first time, the start of an answer came back the other night from some little voice I almost missed:
You are looking for yourself in the world.
You are looking for the world in yourself.
Ooh! Maybe I'm onto something! I like that answer- spontaneous poetry from some little inner voice.
Now, I just have to figure out exactly what that means and what to do about it.
