Cliff Rubin

When I left New York City, I told myself I was done with music and the music industry. For the 3rd time in my life I had come within an arm's reach of a record contract from a major label only to have things fall apart at the last minute. I couldn't take it anymore and I was done.

My wife, Mollie, and I moved into an old farmhouse in upstate New York and I began a career as a carpenter. I had some talent, and enjoyed building things that either stood or not; nothing subjective about framing. But I was clumsy and got hurt quite often, one time shooting a nail through two of my fingers, attaching them to a two by four. Mollie asked me to quit before I killed myself, but with a newborn baby boy, I needed a way to make income right a way.

Fortuitously, while looking for health insurance for my son, I came upon a job opening, which, as much as it scorched my being, I took, needing the money quite badly. By the end of three years, I had sold enough insurance to buy the house we lived in and have enough extra for anything we wanted.

Unfortunately, my health declined at a rapid rate as an overwhelming sadness overtook my state of mind. Through our five years since we'd left the city, I'd written a few songs, because they came to me and writing down what flows through me is what I've always done. I had no intention of doing anything with these songs, except play them for my own pleasure, but something kept nagging at me to do more and the thought of selling insurance the rest of my days depressed me to no end.

It wasn't long before my health had deteriorated so bad I wound up in the hospital with a fever fluctuating over 104 with the doctors having no idea what was wrong with me. But, I knew. I'd let my spirit die and the body was following. Either I changed my life or it would end. So, against doctor's orders, I checked myself out of the hospital, found a spiritual healer and a few weeks later, when the fever had dropped, quit my job, sold my house and started out for Tucson, AZ.

We never got there. Coming down the Blue Ridge Parkway we found the city of Asheville. We liked it enough to want to stay for a little while. A week, turned into a month, a month into a year. We bought a house and set up a home. I began working as a computer programmer; songs kept coming every once in a while, I'd write them down, but just put them away, still not able to face the music, so to speak.

The sadness returned and unable to live with it, Mollie moved out. I needed help and found it at the Center For Creative Living. I received counseling from Dr. John Waterhouse and comfort and hope from the Sunday talks given by himself and his wife, Rev. Barbara Waterhouse. They needed someone to help with sound on Sundays, so I volunteered to do that. I brought my son, Isaac with me, and he helped out, too, playing one of the chakra bowls at the beginning of the celebration.

A few years passed. I met a woman, who became my current wife. She loves to sing, and loved the songs I'd written, so we played together and the joy of music returned. And then, music director of the church gave notice. It came to me in my dreams; leading a band for the Center. Barbara talked about having a band and I knew everything there was to know about putting one together. Still, I could feel the pain of my past experiences and didn't want to face it.

The dreams continued. My wife, Kathy and I spoke of it often. This band was for service, this band was for God. Before, it had all been about my ego and my success. This was for the community I loved and lived in. After the January first fire walk at the Center, I had another dream. This one included the name of the band, "Walk Across Fire". I couldn't fight my calling any longer.

I had a talk with John and Barbara, who enthusiastically embraced the idea. The band came together quickly. Over the next few months I wrote ten new songs, all in alignment with the Science of Mind philosophy. Members of the congregation, spoke to Kathy and I often about making a CD.

Once again, the force was too great to fight. Something larger than myself was leading my way. I could see my job was to follow. We've been playing at the Center for about a year and a half. Almost every week we get a standing ovation for the music we play, the music we write.

The CD has been well received and beginning to gain some national attention. Terry Cole-Whittaker, the best-selling author has endorsed it and plays it at her speaking engagements. This is the happiest time of my life. The music that flows through me is changing people's lives. My calling has been answered.