Michael Brant DeMaria

🍂✨ Today I picked up one of my favorite Coyote Oldman flutes and felt joy in the coming of autumn. There’s something about this season that reminds me how celebrating the small joys in life can be the most valuable thing we do—especially when the world at large may sometimes feel like it’s coming apart at the seams.
I’ve always loved the book Small is Beautiful: Economics as if People Mattered by E.F. Schumacher. It reminds us that the simple, small, and seemingly insignificant moments of the day are actually where the slender, tender threads of true meaning thrive. This is the place of soul-making.
🍁 Greet the ant, caterpillar, or dragonfly you notice today. 🌿 Say hello to the clouds. ☁️ Practice looking at the space around things. When you do, you may find your consciousness shifting into a more fluid, flowing, and joyous way of being.
We are here, after all, to become an empty flute that life itself can play. 🎶🪶

Mother Ocean 🌊❤️✨

I’m playing my low E-flat minor flute, made of lightning-struck redwood. Its voice has been with me for many years, highlighted on so many of my pieces—especially the title track of Ocean.

I often speak to the ocean as Mother Ocean. She reminds me that the boundaries we draw based on socio-political lines are illusory. When I meditate in the Gulf, I feel how it is connected to the entire hydrosphere of our planet—a powerful reminder of our deep interconnectedness.

Mother Ocean also reminds me of my own mother, Jacqueline, who embodied love, compassion, wisdom, and that same deep sense of interconnectedness. This week, on September 23rd, I honored the 10th anniversary of her spiritual birthday. It’s hard to believe she shed her body ten earth years ago, yet our spiritual relationship has only deepened and opened since then. I’m still learning so much about her, her journey, and I give thanks every day for the many gifts she gave me—and yes, even some of the paradoxes too.

Love you, Mom. And say hi to Dad for me. 🌹✨

🌊🪶🎶

✨🌅 Sunset Serenade for Summer’s Farewell 🌅✨
Improvising on my Rav Vast at the edge of the Gulf Coast as the sun slipped into the horizon, I felt called to offer this tune as a serenade to the last weeks of summer—carrying us gently toward the fall equinox.
This has been one of the most challenging years I can remember. In so many ways, the world feels on fire. Yet the fire of our sun still glows—reminding us that fire is also the great transformer. Once the flames pass, the embers that remain—like a campfire glowing after a long night—teach us that endings are never the end, but the quiet beginnings of something new.
As twilight gives way to autumn—one of my favorite seasons—I’m reminded of how the leaves turn golden, inviting us to reflect on what the year has brought… and to release what no longer serves, so we may enter winter lighter, wiser, and more whole. 🍂
Sending peace, love, and joy to you and your loved ones.
Your friend on the journey,
Michael / aka Ever