Polar Vortex, Persian Jazz, and Yellow Dream Worlds

Notes from BOKA.

I think the first time I heard the term polar vortex, I was in the middle of critical care fellowship in Detroit. And let me tell you, what a time to learn that phrase and be living in Detroit.

I used to joke there were only two seasons in Michigan:

winter and construction.

That’s my joke. I think it’s my joke. (If someone else said it first, I give credit where credit is due.)

Anyway, I digress.

Here we are now, end of January, everybody holding their breath, anticipating the polar vortex rolling through the East Coast and reaching us at home.

Family members around the country have sent pics of real snow. My sister actually dipped my new nephew into it. Imagine that… your first time ever touching snow, tasting snow. How bizarre. How exciting. How cold.

And that’s what it is, isn’t it?

The cold reminding us of the warmth.

Because the cold brings the warmth into focus. It makes you realize how precious warmth really is.

And warmth isn’t only heat.

Warmth is a hug.

Warmth is a cup of Persian tea.

Warmth is music.

We didn’t get snow. We got cold rain. And cold rain is the kind that can quietly become ice. No drama. No white blanket. Just slick danger. Which means: slower driving, charged phones, extra care.

Kids are home from school.

So it’s time for niche music.

Today I was listening to Rumi inspired Persian jazz. There’s a whole movement now of artists blending his verses with improvisation: Rana Farhan doing Rumi over blues riffs, the Rumi Suite weaving Sufi poetry with world fusion, Cyminology bringing Farsi into Western jazz ballads.

Ancient wisdom meeting modern soul. East meeting West in the warmest possible way.

Fantastic.

And a Rumi line reminds me:

Wherever you are, and whatever you do, be in love.

Be in love with art and music.

I’ll tell you the art that you should explore is that of Os Gemeos, the twin brother artists from Brazil, and their yellow universe of hip hoppers and dream logic and street spirit. Growing up in São Paulo, they created an entire mystical world called Tritrez, populated by yellow skinned, long limbed figures that dance between folklore, hip hop, and pure fantasy. The brothers say to understand their work, you have to “allow reason to be replaced by the imaginary.”

Feel first. We can always reason and understand later.

It’s like warmth in color.

Warmth is in the colors.

So as we step into the new week: embrace art. embrace music. embrace hugs.

That’s where the warmth is. It’s not in the polar vortex.

DOCTOR’S ORDER.

Move slower if the rain turns to ice. Make tea. Put on that niche beautiful music.

And give your people a little more warmth than the weather does.

Have a warm week.