Peter is said to have the ‘gift of melody’. His love and enthusiasm for the creative process, self-exploration, the healing arts and the natural world continues to inspire his composing and recording. In a career spanning over 3 decades, he has recorded over 60 albums, has written scores for over 100 television and film productions including 11 On- and Off-Broadway plays, and has received many awards and honors, including 13 Grammy nominations and a Grammy Award for Dancing On Water. His music has uplifted, soothed, healed and inspired the lives of millions.

Peter-Kater.jpg

Peter Kater

<h4>PETER KATER experiences the essence of true freedom while on his paddle board
 in the early morning off the island of Maui. His first of many encounters with a humpback whale, an ambassador of
 the sacred and free, is for him a wonderful opportunity to explore the unknown.</h4>

When I first moved to Maui in 2007 I learned to paddle board and I can honestly say that
 the ocean experiences I’ve had since have changed my life. Here is a recap of one of my first such adventures.
I headed out on my paddle board very early one morning looking for an experience. The
 ocean and winds were calm so I ventured further out than normal, and probably further than would have been advisable
 given that the sun had not yet risen and I was the only one in the water as far as I could see. But I really wanted
 an experience.
I paddled for a while, breathing deeply into the fears that sometimes surfaced in my
 mind and stomach. Fears about sharks and unexpected winds, and my own vulnerability and mortality. As soon as one
 set of inner disturbances or ripples of fear dispersed, another surfaced. But I kept breathing into them and
 relaxing my body and mind. Setting my sights on the horizon as I paddled forward, I kept breathing, waiting
 patiently for the layers of thoughts to disintegrate so that I could simply be present.
Finally the thought surfaced, “I’m so far from shore!”
 Then I looked down at my feet standing on top of my beautiful red striped board and I thought, “But I am here,
 standing on my board!”

<img class="w-100"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/somehtingsacred2_1_5040eee2f6.jpg" alt="" width="834"
 height="444" />

Life isn’t on the shore. Life isn’t elsewhere. It’s here. Like it or not, wherever we
 go, there we are. And I was here, simply standing on my board, holding my paddle, somewhere out on the ocean with
 Maui’s shore far in the distance. That is all. And that was the last of my distracting thoughts for that morning.

I asked myself, “What was I was searching for out here in the ocean, alone, so early in
 the morning? And the thought occurred to me, “Something sacred, something free.”
I wanted to touch on something that was intrinsically just it-Self. Something completely
 free and wild. Something that was not defined by its productivity or assigned some relative value or worth based on
 what it did or didn’t do. Something that didn't need to practice being.
<hr>
<h5 style="text-align: center;">
 Something completely free and wild.
 Something that was not defined
 by its productivity or assigned
 some relative value or worth
 based on what it did or didn’t do.
 Something that didn’t need to
 practice being.
 </h5>
<hr>
I wanted an experience that could remind and reconnect me with the essential part of
 myself that existed before all the concepts, ideals and values were layered upon me. I wanted to experience the part
 of me that transcended even the loftiest and most well-meaning of spiritual aspirations. Spiritual ideals, values
 and concepts are merely vehicles to guide and transport us to a place where they are no longer useful or relevant.
 They are only stepping stones, not a destination. I wanted to experience something natural. I wanted to feel true
 freedom. I wanted to experience my essence.
We hug our concepts and beliefs close to ourselves, like a favorite soft blanket
 protecting us from the cold. We hug it so close that we don’t realize we’ve not only blanketed our eyes but our
 hearts as well. Even the most comforting, well-meaning thoughts and intentions can blind and separate us from what
 is present and right in front of us. It’s like forgetting it is spring and still carrying the blanket and snow boots
 needed in winter. Being here was very different than anywhere I’d ever been so far in my life. And being here
 required a lot more breathing and letting go.
<img class="img-float-left has-img-center-in-mobile"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/somehtingsacred3_1_28df9c07ed.jpg" alt="" width="339"
 height="474" />True inspiration comes from venturing into the unknown, a new territory. It comes from letting
 go, into a new awareness.
A new breath. You have to be willing to let go of what you know, of what is familiar, to
 relinquish control and experience something new with open eyes and open heart.
I’d started paddling out on my board, hugging my identity, concepts, fears and
 aspirations close to me. One by one I dropped them into the ocean, and they submerged. I became more and more
 vulnerable and present as I disarmed myself of my illusion of separateness and identity.
Finally, as I stood alone on my board a mile or more offshore, watching the sunrise
 shimmering brightly over the crater peak of Maui, I heard it. A huge, wet exhale. The sound of water and air
 spraying out with one giant breath into the atmosphere. Compared to the quiet lapping of water on my board, this new
 sound was like a freight train blowing its whistle into the dawn. As I heard it again I turned to look, and I saw
 it! It’s dark long rolling back, surfacing up along the water and then many yards later, rolling back into the
 ocean. It rolled and rolled, submerging like a giant sea serpent from some mythological fairytale. It gracefully
 sliced through the water until it completely submerged with a playful slap of its tail fin. This beautiful humpback
 whale, less than 30 feet away, was now heading directly towards me.
This is what I was looking for: first an encounter with myself, and then with a living,
 breathing ambassador of something sacred and free. The whale just is. A giant symbol of the unknown, from a world I
 could only peer into for a few seconds at a time. Yet, at that moment, we shared the same water and breathed the
 same air.
I saw it’s huge amazing body slice through the water over and over again. In between
 paddling hard to keep up with it, I also sat patiently, quietly, waiting for it to resurface again for the air that
 we both shared. In some ways the waiting and listening was my favorite part.
The air was thick with mystery and anticipation. I submerged my head into the water to
 listen to its whale song and couldn’t believe how loud and clear it was. The whale surfaced and submerged a few more
 times before heading further out to sea. I had gone as far out as my mind could tolerate and slowly paddled back to
 shore.
That was one of my very first experiences with the humpback whales that migrate from
 Alaska to Maui from December to April every year, to mate and have offspring. Since then I’ve had dozens and dozens
 of amazing experiences with them. Their ancient intelligence is palpable, as is the beautiful aloha energy of Maui.
 I am grateful to live in a place where their presence is so strong and frequent. It has changed my life.

Excerpts from the author’s blog <a style="color: #cc8b4a;"
 href="https://peterkater.com/something-sacredsomething-free/" target="_blank"
 rel="noopener noreferrer">https://peterkater.com/something-sacredsomething-free/</a>.
 Reprinted with permission.
<hr>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">Article by PETER KATER</h4>
<hr>

Something sacred, something free

<h4>PETER KATER is a Grammy Award-winning musician and author, who also conducts
 musical, healing and creative retreats in beautiful natural settings. Here he talks with MEGHANA ANAND about communicating feelings and ideas through music.</h4>
<hr class="vertical-space1">
Q: Hi Peter. What does music mean to you? How did your journey begin?
PK:&nbsp;Music for me is a way to communicate
 feelings and ideas that are not easily put into words. When I was a child I didn’t really want to be a musician; my
 mother made me take piano lessons. But after 10 or 12 years I started to enjoy it. I found that it was very soothing
 and healing for me to play for myself. I did a lot of improvising even when I was a teenager, and I started writing
 my own songs also when I was pretty young. But I really played for myself. Sure it was cool in high school, but
 after I was out on my own I was really mostly doing it for myself. Other people always encouraged me to play
 publicly, and I would wonder, “Really, you think I should play in this place?” And they would say, “Yes, yes, you
 should do it.” So I would. One thing just led to another. I always had my own unique style – it’s good to be
 yourself.
Honestly, I now enjoy it more than ever. After all these years I’m starting to come into
 the fullness of myself, and express that musically in a way that is more complete. I am now talking about the
 creative process. The creative process is a process of self-acceptance and it’s a process of compassion,
 spontaneity, listening very closely and deeply to yourself, and to what you hear and feel. There is no censoring.

Music is a very interesting path. In my opinion, it’s a very spiritual path.
Q: You play music for the healing arts. Can you elaborate on that?
PK:&nbsp;I was always into the healing arts,
 meaning I personally always loved any kind of healing process, any kind of organic bodywork, whether it was massage
 or something deeper. I have always enjoyed therapy of different kinds, but as far as my music being healing, I never
 tried to play healing music. I never tried to affect anyone in a way that would be healing. All I have tried to do
 is show up authentically.
There’s a saying that I love (I don’t know who coined it): “Authenticity heals.” If we
 are authentic, where we are, at any given moment, and transparent in a way that’s genuine, authentic, it heals us
 and all of a sudden we change. It’s like taking something from the dark and shining light on it. If we say, “Oh, I’m
 feeling frustrated,” or “I’m feeling grief,” or “I’m feeling angry,” or “I’m feeling nervous” – whatever the truth
 is about that moment – if we can express that in a real way then it’s transformative.
So when I play the piano, I just want to tell the truth. I just want to express what’s
 really true for me in that moment, and when I express that then I feel differently. Then I have to express what’s
 true for me in the next moment, what’s true for me now and now and now and now. That becomes a natural unraveling
 process that I could never orchestrate with my mind. It just organically wells up. And if I allow it to flow, it
 takes me to some place where I need to go, but I don’t really or necessarily plan that. Does that make sense?
Q: Absolutely. I totally relate to that. You started your career in music playing jazz,
 which was contemporary and mainstream. So how did the transition happen into the healing arts? Did you face any
 challenges, internally and externally?
PK:&nbsp;Well, I went through a period of only
 improvising for about 6 years, between the ages of 18 and 24. Then I had the opportunity to make an album, and so I
 decided to compose the songs for the album, because I wanted to be able to play songs from it. And I released my
 first album called Spirit. It was very close to home; it was very much me. It was a solo piano album.
The album did well, but I received some criticism from other musicians around saying,
 “Oh, he doesn’t really know how to play jazz. He doesn’t know how to do this,” and I felt challenged. So in my next
 album I incorporated other musicians, some jazz, and I started writing melodies that were catchy and commercial. And
 that record charted in the USA in the top 20 of National Airplay Contemporary Jazz charts.
I thought, “Well, that was pretty easy!” So for the next few records I wrote more and
 more contemporary jazz songs, almost just to prove that I could do it if I wanted to. And I had several top 10
 records in a row, but I was really not that happy with it. I would play at jazz festivals and I would feel, “This is
 not working. This doesn’t feel like me.”
One day I heard a cassette by R. Carlos Nakai, who is a Native American flautist. The
 Native American flute is so beautiful, so soulful, simple and earthy. So I started playing along with it on the
 piano. And I thought, “Well, this sounds great,” the piano and the flute. So I contacted him to see about doing a
 project together. I thought it was just going to be a little aside, just a simple project that I would enjoy for
 myself. I didn’t really think anyone would care about it. And to my surprise when the record came out – the first
 album was called Natives – it became very popular, selling 5 to 10 times as many as my contemporary jazz albums. And
 it felt more authentically me than the jazz stuff.
So that gave me a big permission to be more myself, and to stop trying to be someone
 else. The direction went back to where I started, with my spirit, back inside, being who I am, naturally. Working
 with Carlos was an invitation to do that.
Q: How do you overcome the challenges and biases that you may face trying to be
 yourself, while following your heart’s pursuit?
PK:&nbsp;I almost feel that sometimes the world is
 like a distraction and misleading, when we focus on the outside. We have to be in the world and we have to
 participate, but I think we need to take our direction from inside. And we can find it in ourselves. It takes time,
 but we all have this inner voice that is always questioning: “Is that the right thing?” When you have an idea and
 you’re excited about it, but then you start to doubt, the mind is talking.
When I speak with musicians I respect, we all agree that it’s that first thought, that
 initial spark of an idea, that is the true idea. And all the thoughts that come after that – wondering,
 second-guessing, doubting – is the mind. That’s the world coming in and undermining our natural essence, our natural
 intuition. So when I’m playing or improvising, I’m always saying yes. I get an idea, and I say yes. Yes, yes, yes,
 yes. I find that when I start second-guessing myself, I feel like I go off the path. So for me playing the piano is
 about not thinking. It is almost like meditating, you know, very spontaneous. I used to meditate a lot many years
 ago. I was very, very disciplined. I would fast a lot, I would chant, and I would do all these things to quiet my
 mind. But I find now that playing the piano is the most honest and true thing I can possibly do, because really it’s
 in the music that my mind is completely quiet and I’m just being. I’m listening and being. And the more I do that,
 the better I feel in my daily life as well. It kind of bleeds into my life.
<img alt="authentic-communication" 
 class="lazyload has-img-center"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/authentic_communication2_1c47b93c40.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-07T12:28:50.354Z">

Q: Peter, you have played and worked with some very big names in the industry, like
 John Denver, Dan Fogelberg and now with Carlos Nakai. How has the experience been?
PK:&nbsp;Beautiful! I was a big John Denver and Dan
 Fogelberg fan when I was younger. So working with them was really sweet. But I have to say that playing with R.
 Carlos Nakai and Dominic Miller, who is Sting’s guitarist, and Tina Guo, who is a fantastic cellist, and Snatam
 Kaur, who is a beautiful vocalist, is where I really found this connection, because none of us really want to
 discuss or rehearse the music. We want to find a way to just be present with each other and really listen to each
 other. The musicians who have been doing it for a long time realize that creativity is not about doing something;
 it’s about listening, being very open and very receptive. It’s letting creativity flow, rather than thinking that we
 need to do something to create it. Creation and creativity are everywhere. This Earth is the ultimate manifestation
 of creativity. We live in creativity. So from my perspective, the way to be a part of that creativity is to be very
 receptive and listen deeply. And not judge, and not question. You know what I’m saying?
Q: Yes. It’s wonderful.
PK:&nbsp;And also breathing. I do a lot of Internet
 performances where I talk with the audience quite a bit, and people ask me, “What are you doing? What are you
 thinking when you’re playing the piano?” And my response, that first thing is, “Don’t think.” The second thing is,
 “Am I breathing? And where in my body am I breathing? Where can I breathe into? Where in my body is it tight so I
 can relax? Is my stomach, my abdomen relaxed?” Those are very important things, because if we’re tight, if we’re not
 breathing, and if we’re in our head, then we’re stuck. So that’s important to me. And you know what I like to do? I
 like people to lie under the piano while I’m playing!
Q: Really? Okay.
PK:&nbsp;Yes! No matter where I’m playing – at a
 home concert or on stage – I invite people to come up and lie under the piano. I feel them under there, and I
 breathe into it. I connect with them and then I improvise just for them. I transfer the energy – them to me, me to
 them – circulating the energy. And people have beautiful experiences.
Q: That’s very interesting. Do you often do that with your son also?
PK:&nbsp;For my son, listening to my music is like
 breathing, as he’s heard it all his life. He doesn’t need to go under the piano; it’s actually part of him. He’s
 actually a very talented guitarist. He is only 14 years old, but he is becoming a very good guitarist.
Q: How did you feel winning the Grammy in 2017?
PK:&nbsp;Well, it was very exciting. It was
 especially interesting because that was my 13th nomination! I had not won the previous 12 years, so when I did win
 it was actually quite shocking and very exhilarating. To be honest, I did have a premonition. And it was the first
 year that I also took my son to the Grammy’s, because he was old enough to go and appreciate. It was great. I have
 to admit that winning the Grammy gave me the sense of even more permission to be myself. Even though I had worked
 through a lot of the need or desire to prove something to someone, I think winning the Grammy was the stamp or the
 proof of what I believe in. Now I play even more from the heart, even more exploring and trying new things, just
 letting it go.
Q: So what next for Peter Kater?
PK:&nbsp;You know what I really love doing? It’s
 the retreats. They are so much fun, and people have such great experiences. They’re very intimate. There are usually
 10 to 20 people per retreat. We spend a week together in a beautiful place, either in Hawaii or in Montana. All
 needs are taken care of, like food, massage, and being in nature, in a beautiful setting. And every day I play the
 piano for them for at least an hour, sometimes two hours. I invite guest musicians to come at night. We do little
 exercises in being present and authentic. I talk a lot about what happens when we show up with ourselves, being
 really present with ourselves and with someone else, and removing the sense of inhibition or the feeling that we
 can’t be authentic. We create a very safe space where people can take a risk and say, “This is who I am,” and
 embrace themselves and show who they are to the others at the retreat. It’s not heavy. It’s not serious. But it’s
 very free and very loving, and within a day or two people are having an amazing time. After a week people feel like
 they’ve made life-long friends, and no one wants to leave! I started doing these retreats during the last year or
 two, and I love them. You really get to know everyone. People experience a lot of feelings, a lot of things come up,
 and – I don’t like to use the word too much – a lot of ‘healing’ does happen even though no one is trying to make it
 happen. It happens on its own. When we’re authentic and genuine and transparent, healing happens by itself.
Q: Last question. What is the significance of listening in your life, especially in
 your field of music?
PK:&nbsp;It’s everything. Listening is one of the
 most important things we can learn how to do: listen to ourselves, listen to nature, listen to each other, listen to
 our hearts, listen to what our bodies are doing – all that stuff. We get so wrapped up in doing: Doing, doing,
 doing, and not being. And that’s basically what we try to do in the retreats. We focus on just being and listening,
 and getting out of our heads. Listening is the main ingredient in creating music. People think they have to try to
 be creative or they have to have creative ideas and thoughts. I don’t believe that. I really think that if we are
 quiet enough, to where we can actually open up and listen to what’s already going on, then things will just happen.
 I can never make myself play the piano if I don’t want to. I love being in nature. For me being in nature is the
 easiest place to open up and be present.
<img alt="authentic-communication" 
 class="lazyload has-img-center"
 src="https://cdn-prod-static.heartfulness.org/authentic_communication3_8b32602ec5.jpg?updated_at=2023-04-07T12:29:43.505Z">

Q: It’s been wonderful talking to you, Peter, and I really want to thank you for taking
 time out of your busy schedule to talk to us.
PK:&nbsp;You’re so welcome. Thank you for reaching out.
Join me… 
 in the presence of Trees. 
 Where the Earth beckons&nbsp;a deeper listen 
 As it draws you down into its peace. &nbsp; 
 Join me… on the edge 
 of the known and unfamiliar. 
 In the company of intimate strangers. &nbsp; 
 Join me… for an eternal moment 
 Within the eye of spiraling time. 
 As we reclaim what we’ve lost. &nbsp; 
 Join me… in loving emancipation 
 In blinding night and blinding light. 
 To awaken once more and again. &nbsp; 

—Peter Kater
<hr>
<h4 style="text-align: center;">Interview by MEGHANA ANAND</h4>
<hr>

Peter Kater

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