I am still here, although it's been three months since I've checked in with my blog - I'd like to say I'm okay... but that would not be true. July 19 is the one-year anniversary of my mom's passing - I have spent the last two months re-tracing my steps as to what I was doing this time last year (caregiving since mid-May). Today feels like a destination of sorts, of raw grief and the beginnings of healing - I have allowed myself minor meltdowns in these last 24 hours but, as soon as I hit Publish Post, I will get in the jacuzzi and weep until I am empty...
Today also marks eight years since Dave Carter died - I am exhausted, I am sad, I am bone-weary... and I leave for Falcon Ridge (by way of Boston) in a few hours. I will only get a few hours sleep - it is now 5 a.m. although, for clarity's sake, this post is dated yesterday to honor The Day of the Dead...
I had grand plans for this post, and it has fizzled along with my energy level - my annual festival beckons, and with it a promise of rejuvenation and regrouping and renewal. I have to snap out of this emotional chaos, and surrounding myself with music friends is a lovely first step - Mom and Dave would want it that way... and I trust them to lead me on the path to, as my friend Myra says, "the new normal" (sigh)...
SONG: Disorder in the House by Warren Zevon
BOOK: The Shadow Effect: Illuminating the Hidden Power of Your True Self by Deepak Chopra, Marianne Williamson, Debbie Ford
POEM: The Wind Blows Through the Doors of My Heart by Deborah Digges
The wind blows
through the doors of my heart.
It scatters my sheet music
that climbs like waves from the piano, free of the keys.
Now the notes stripped, black butterflies,
flattened against the screens.
The wind through my heart
blows all my candles out.
In my heart and its rooms is dark and windy.
From the mantle smashes birds' nests, teacups
full of stars as the wind winds round,
a mist of sorts that rises and bends and blows
or is blown through the rooms of my heart
that shatters the windows,
rakes the bedsheets as though someone
had just made love. And my dresses
they are lifted like brides come to rest
on the bedstead, crucifixes,
dresses tangled in trees in the rooms
of my heart. To save them
I've thrown flowers to fields,
so that someone would pick them up
and know where they came from.
Come the bees now clinging to flowered curtains.
Off with the clothesline pinning anything, my mother's trousseau.
It is not for me to say what is this wind
or how it came to blow through the rooms of my heart.
Wing after wing, through the rooms of the dead
the wind does not blow. Nor the basement, no wheezing,
no wind choking the cobwebs in our hair.
It is cool here, quiet, a quilt spread on soil.
But we will never lie down again.
QUOTE: "Like cars in amusement parks, our direction is often determined through collisions." ~ Yahia Lababidi
Monday, July 19, 2010
Disorder in the House (Warren Zevon)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Long Goodbye (Amy Carol Webb)
SONG: Long Goodbye by Amy Carol Webb (link to YouTube video)
POEM: Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
QUOTE(S): "Grief, when it comes, is nothing we expect it to be... After my mother died I received a letter from a friend in Chicago, a former Maryknoll priest, who precisely intuited what I felt. The death of a parent, he wrote, 'despite our preparation, indeed, despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we had thought gone to ground long ago. We might, in that indeterminate period they call mourning, be in a submarine, silent on the ocean's bed, aware of the depth charges, now near and now far, buffeting us with recollections.' "~ Joan Didion
Monday, May 25, 2009
Hey, Ho (Dave Carter)
BOOK: Who's Calling the Shots?: How to Respond Effectively to Children's Fascination with War Play, War Toys and Violent TV by Nancy Carlsson-Paige, Diane E. Levin
POEM: Memorial Day by Steve Kowit
QUOTE: "Perform, then, this one act of remembrance before this Day passes - Remember there is an army of defense and advance that never dies and never surrenders, but is increasingly recruited from the eternal sources of the American spirit and from the generations of American youth." ~ W.J. Cameron
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Seven is the Number (Dave Carter)
Three weeks ago today, at 5:10 p.m., I was laid off from a job I'd held for over a year and a half - much as I knew it was the proverbial blessing in disguise, it's been a difficult time, and I've experienced more than a few manic-depressive episodes, yo-yo-ing from peak highs to valley lows.
I've discussed before that it takes 21 days to change a habit - the same can be said of facing a fact, coming to a realization, allowing an epiphany. Wallowing: over - roly-poly mode: uncurled. I have made the conscious choice to rejoin the human race, in all its glorious aspects - I re-started my walking program (3 miles in the neighborhood) yesterday, and got up and did it again today. Loving the much-needed Vitamin D, the awareness of sights/sounds/smells and the acquisition of found objects - yesterday a feather to add to my windowsill aloe plant... and today a smooth rock that fits perfectly in the palm of my hand (a new worry stone?).
Although I've been eating very healthfully and mindfully these last few months, I'd slacked a bit (d*mn those chocolate chip muffins I bought for my son's visit home from college this past weekend!)... so I've now re-committed to my fruits/vegetables/non-processed foods lifestyle - I've also re-focused my productivity goals, making a list (easy/medium/hard) of everything I want to accomplish in the next few months, to take advantage of the fact I'm home full-time until January.
Seven is significant, because for years I've worn seven silver bracelets on each wrist, each with a story/history... from cloissonne to gemstones to inscribed - some were gifts and others self-purchased, a few cuffs and the rest bangles, all special. Seven is a lucky number - seven is also the number of chakras, a pendant of which I was given by a friend recently. I've begun to study the significance of each, as well as their relationship to each other - it's obviously all about the harmony of mind-body-spirit. Much to digest (no pun intended) - I'm just toe-dipping at this point... :-)
An understanding of the energy centers of the body, which are also the spiritual centers of the soul. Chakra is a Sanskrit word meaning whirling vortices of light. They bring together the energy body and the physical body. Your soul has seven spiritual centers (also known as chakras) that control your physical, emotional, and psychological life. When each of them is in balance, your life flows smoothly. When any one of them is out of balance, the imbalance can show up as a physical symptom affecting a particular area of your body, or as an emotional or psychological symptom affecting your outlook.
More here...
P.S. FYI, new SMM - if you check out the left sidebar, you'll see I'm now an official contributor (zippity!).
SONG: Seven is the Number by Dave Carter
BOOK: Seven Sacred Pauses: Living Mindfully Through the Hours of the Day by Macrina Wiederkehr
POEM: The Opening of Eyes by David Whyte
That day I saw beneath dark clouds
The passing light over the water
And I heard the voice of the world speak out
I knew then as I have before
Life is no passing memory of what has been
Nor the remaining pages of a great book
Waiting to be read
It is the opening of eyes long closed
It is the vision of far off things
Seen for the silence they hold
It is the heart after years of secret conversing
Speaking out loud in the clear air
It is Moses in the desert fallen to his knees
Before the lit bush
It is the man throwing away his shoes
As if to enter heaven and finding himself astonished
Opened at last
Fallen in love
With Solid Ground
QUOTE: "Good for the body is the work of the body, good for the soul the work of the soul, and good for either the work of the other." ~ Henry David Thoreau
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Long, Black Road into Tulsa Town (Dave Carter)
[ Added 7/20/08: a YouTube video just posted to the Dave-and-Tracy list... ]
BOOK: The Tibetan Book of the Dead: First Complete Translation by Graham Coleman, Thupten Jinpa (editors), Gyurme Dorje (translator)
POEM: An Obscure Meadow Lures Me by José Lezama Lima (translated by Nathaniel Tarn)
her fast, close-fitting lawns
revolve in me, sleep on my balcony.
They rule her beaches, her indefinite
alabaster dome re-creates itself.
On the waters of a mirror,
the voice cut short crossing a hundred paths,
my memory prepares surprise:
fallow dew in the sky, dew, sudden flash.
Without hearing I’m called:
I slowly enter the meadow,
proudly consumed in a new labyrinth.
Illustrious remains:
a hundred heads, bugles, a thousand shows
baring their sky, their silent sunflower.
Strange the surprise in that sky
where unwilling footfalls turn
and voices swell in its pregnant center.
An obscure meadow goes by.
Between the two, wind or thin paper,
the wind, the wounded wind of this death,
this magic death, one and dismissed.
A bird, another bird, no longer trembles.
QUOTE: "People do not die for us immediately, but remain bathed in a sort of aura of life which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to occupy our thoughts in the same way as when they were alive. It is as though they were traveling abroad." ~ Marcel Proust
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Gentle Soldier of My Soul (Dave Carter)
BOOK: A Dazzle of Dragonflies by Forrest L. Mitchell, James L. Lasswell
Link between water and air,
QUOTE: "Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragonfly hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky." ~ Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Friday, December 21, 2007
Footsteps of the Faithful (Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer)
Some traditions have been retired and others newly-begun - change isn't better or worse... it's just different. We've gracefully put our nuclear family needs on the proverbial back burner to pay tribute to "the big picture". Since we're the long-distance relatives, it only makes sense for us to venture northward, even if only once a year - conversations flow and comfortable silences abound, and we hug enough to last until the following year.
My sister Mari and I drink wine and listen to my latest holiday mix Christmas Eve while we're making the strada (which has to sit overnight) - it is always my husband's job to grate the cheese. My older children play with cousin Julia (M's daughter) - my brother Brad and my brother-in-law Bill talk sports, all the while my mom glows with love and appreciation that we are all under the same roof.
Julia will wake us up entirely too early to see if Santa has arrived (although, at 11, she's clued in) - presents will overflow from under the tree, and Mr. Claus will have gifted everyone as well. Sometimes he slips something into a stocking that the receipient is not expecting (like the gorgeous bracelet from my husband last year) - we ooh and ahh over each unwrapping, taking the time to cherish (just as the time was taken to choose the perfect gift).
The rituals with my husband's family are different, yet equally comforting - it will be especially difficult this year, considering his father's passing only a month or so ago...
Many things have not gotten done this year, and I'm reconciled to the fact - I'm working harder at taking better care of myself... which means I'm trying to get more sleep... which means I really miss those hours between midnight and 3 a.m. when I do my best work! Cards are late... but the love that remains in my heart for the endurance of friendship and family never wanes...
When I got home from work this evening, I passed out gifts to our four immediate neighboring houses - a group of boys came caroling, and the dog and I watched, listened and smiled... :-)
We're out of here in the next 10 minutes - much love to all and I'll be in touch when we get back in town... <3
SONG: Footsteps of the Faithful by Dave Carter
BOOK: Southern Christmas Literary Classics of the Holidays by Judy Long, Thomas Payton (Editors)
POEM: Written on Christmas Eve, 1513 by Fra. Giovanni
I salute you. I am your friend,
and my love for you goes deep.
There is nothing I can give you which you have not.
But there is much, very much, that, while I cannot give it,
you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts
find rest in it today. Take heaven!
No peace lies in the future which is not hidden
in this present little instant.
Take peace! The gloom of the world is but a shadow.
Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy.
There is radiance and glory in darkness,
could we but see. And to see, we have only to look.
I beseech you to look!
Life is so generous a giver.
But we, judging its gifts by their covering,
cast them away as ugly or heavy or hard.
Remove the covering, and you
will find beneath it a living splendor,
woven of love by wisdom, with power.
Welcome it, grasp it, and you touch
the angel's hand that brings it to you.
Everything we call a trial, a sorrow or a duty,
believe me, that angel's hand is there.
The gift is there and the wonder of
an overshadowing presence. Your joys, too,
be not content with them as joys.
They, too, conceal diviner gifts.
Life is so full of meaning and purpose,
so full of beauty beneath its covering,
that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven.
Courage then to claim it; that is all!
But courage you have, and the knowledge that we are
pilgrims together, wending through unknown country home.
And so, at this time, I greet you,
not quite as the world sends greetings,
but with profound esteem and with the prayer
that for you, now and forever,
the day breaks and shadows flee away.
QUOTE: "For centuries men have kept an appointment with Christmas. Christmas means fellowship, feasting, giving and receiving, a time of good cheer, home." ~ W.J. Ronald Tucker
Sunday, December 16, 2007
American Noel (Dave Carter)
SONG: American Noel by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer
POEM: Christmas Poem by G.K. Chesterton
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
QUOTE: "There has been only one Christmas - the rest are anniversaries." ~ W.J. Cameron
Sunday, July 22, 2007
When I Go (Dave Carter)
K and I got together today for our annual Dave Carter labyrinth walk/remembrance/seize-the-day ritual - we meet halfway (meaning we each drive about 30 minutes) to a lovely retreat center. The labyrinth is in the back of the property, fairly isolated, and our tradition is to sit on the benches for an hour or so, catching up on each other's lives - we then walk the path, mindfully, me giving her a 5-minute headstart so as not to crowd. It always seems to take me the entire journey toward the center to clear my mind, as there's just so much swirling and competing for attention. The return walk finds me cleansed and open, tabula rasa - the storm that threatened all afternoon waited until we were finished to let loose (thanks, Dave... :-)
Our tradition is to then drive into the town of Delray Beach to find an interesting restaurant, where we drink a glass of wine, share some appetizers and chat some more - we discovered a very cool Asian bistro this time, trying their shrimp/veggies tempura and their chicken dumplings (yum!).
My story of Dave Carter begins in the fall of 1998, when I began reading articles/reviews of an up-and-coming songwriter who was winning all sorts of contests and had just released a CD, with Tracy Grammer, his "partner in all things" - I found out they would be performing at a folk music conference I was attending in February 1999 and was intrigued enough to make a point to go to their showcase (actually three of them), where I promptly fell in love with Dave's smart, layered lyrics, Tracy's violin and their combined harmonies. I wasn't able to buy the CD until six months later and continued to be enthralled - saw them again at Falcon Ridge 2000 and not too long afterwards got a call from their agent, asking if I would present them in May in my just-begun house concert series.
I drove down to Main Street Cafe, where they were playing the night before my show and met Laurie, the proprietress (more on her another time) - Dave and Tracy performed in my living room the following evening and it was a magical time I'll always remember. I saw them at Falcon Ridge a few months later and the next spring they came to West Palm Beach with Joan Baez, who had become enamored with their music, even covering one of Dave's songs - Dave was very sick that night and, when I had a chance to chat with him after the show, said he'd see me in July at Falcon Ridge, as usual. He suffered a heart attack and died a few days before the 2002 festival, a month short of his 50th birthday (see my post of a few days ago) - a reliable member of the folk community posted the news, at Tracy's request, to their online discussion group that Friday afternoon... and it was difficult to believe but impossible to ignore...
My husband was out of town that weekend and I wept for hours, inconsolable - a dear friend (also a fan of their music) called and "talked me off the ledge", keeping me company on the phone for more than three hours, as we both tried to process the idea of a world without Dave Carter. The folk community was devastated - amazingly, Tracy insisted on going to Falcon Ridge, where a beautiful tribute was arranged (when their mainstage set was supposed to have taken place), with many folk artists covering their songs. Tracy said she couldn't imagine being anywhere else except in a place where they were so loved and she knew she'd feel strength and support - the entire weekend was surreal...
My post the day after Dave's death barely scratches the surface of everything he meant to me and others - he was dear, he was special and he is so much missed, even five years later...
WALKING MEDITATION by Thich Nhat Hanh
Take my hand.
POEM: If You Knew by Ellen Bass
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Between Here and Gone (Mary Chapin Carpenter)
Love From Tracy - Sunday, July 21, 2002
Dearest friends and sweet fans,
I am with you in tears and bottomless sorrow. This loss is indescribable. He was endless spring to me, he was bountiful joy and gentleness and laughter. He was my soulmate, my partner in everything wordly and otherwise. I visited with him one last time today and he glowed golden and ageless. His sister and I agreed he looked like an angel. He was absolutely beautiful.
Yesterday, shortly after he went unconscious, he came back for a lucid minute to two to tell me, "I just died... Baby, I just died..." There was a look of wonder in his eyes, and though I cried and tried to deny it to him, I knew he was right and he was on his way. He stayed with me a minute more but despite my attempts to keep him with me, I could see he was already riding that thin chiffon wave between here and gone. He loved beauty, he was hopelessly drawn to the magic and the light in all things. I figure he saw something he could not resist out of the corner of his eye and flew into it. Despite the fact that every rescue attempt was made by paramedics and hospital staff and the death pronouncement officially came at 12:08 pm Eastern Time, I believe he died in my arms in our favorite hotel, leaving me with those final words. That's the true story I am going to tell.
I am so, so very moved by your recollections. I have a thousand hugs and tears and words waiting for whoever wants or needs them. I will meet you at Falcon Ridge on Saturday, if not before. We need to keep this music alive, it was always my mission that the world hear and know the poetry and vision and wonderful mystical magic of David Carter. This path is broad and long; I hope you will stay the course with me.
In the center of our hotel window earlier tonight, by lamplight, came the shadow of a bird to my curtain. He held steady for a four flaps of the wing, maybe five, and then he pivoted away. My heart froze for an instant and then I felt some relief. I took this midnight messenger as a sign. You know that I have been desperate for a sign.
My love to you,
Tracy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dave Carter, 49, folk artist touted as 'major lyrical talent' - by Scott Alarik, Globe Correspondent, 7/23/2002
Dave Carter, who with partner Tracy Grammer was one of the fastest-rising acts in folk music, died Friday in Northampton of a massive heart attack. He was 49.
He and Grammer recorded for the Western Massachusetts label Signature Sounds. Their latest compact disc, ''Drum Hat Buddha,'' was seen as a major breakthrough record, prompting the Associated Press to say of Mr. Carter, who wrote the songs for the duo, ''He writes songs that can stand with the best of contemporary singer-songwriters or sound like they were written 100 years ago.'' Many predicted Mr. Carter and Grammer would become major stars. The Los Angeles Times announced Mr. Carter as ''a major lyrical talent,'' and Great Britain's Folk Roots magazine said his songs were ''destined to become the stuff of legend.''
The duo was just becoming known outside the vibrant subculture of modern folk music. Joan Baez had recently embraced Mr. Carter's music in the same fervor with which she famously promoted the songs of Bob Dylan in the 1960s and Dar Williams in the '90s. She planned to record several of Mr. Carter's songs and to use them in a world tour, as she did nationally last spring. In a Globe profile of Mr. Carter and Grammer last fall, Baez praised Mr. Carter's ability to write intimate songs that ''are available to other people. It's a kind of genius, you know,'' she said, ''and Dylan had the biggest case of it. But I hear it in Dave's songs, too.''
Jim Olsen, president of Signature Sounds, first heard Mr. Carter and Grammer in 1999, and immediately signed them to a long-term contract. They released two CDs for Signature, ''Tanglewood Tree'' in 2000 and ''Drum Hat Buddha'' in 2001. They were scheduled to go into the studio again in December. ''What made Dave such a great songwriter in my mind,'' Olsen said yesterday from his Whately offices, ''was that he had one of the most diverse knowledge bases of any person I've ever known, studied all kinds of music. His songs were very complex and sophisticated, and yet he was also a master storyteller. He grew up listening to a lot of country and folk music, and that tradition of accessibility and storytelling worked its way into his music.''
Mr. Carter perfectly fit the old showbiz saw of the overnight sensation who was years in the making. Though he studied classical and world music (he had a master's degree in music theory from the University of Oklahoma), and was an excellent jazz pianist, he did not pick up a guitar to write a song until he was 42. He was born on Aug. 13, 1952, in Oxnard, Calif., and raised in Oklahoma and Texas. He worked as a mathematician and computer programmer until 1994, when he began to pursue songwriting seriously. By that time he had moved to Portland, Ore., where he met Grammer at an open mike event. They quickly became a duo, both professionally and romantically, and her fiddle arrangements and rich vocals greatly enhanced the easy melodicism of his songs.
Mr. Carter had the rare ability to pen songs that were at once deeply spiritual, often mystical, and yet universal in their emotional scope and melodic allure. His melodies carried an unmistakable blend of modern pop and what Baez called ''something kind of Southern-rootsy.'' It was that melding of the folksy and the urbane, the ancient and the modern, the dense poet and the welcoming troubadour, that had so many in the folk world deeming Mr. Carter a major new songwriting voice. The future seemed unlimited.
When we signed Dave and Tracy,'' said Olsen, ''the promise I made them was that they may not make the big time because what they do is so personal and sophisticated, but that they were going to have a lifelong career. That appealed to Dave very much. But the truth is,'' Olsen said, ''I always believed it would only take one cover by a major star to unveil his work to the rest of the world; and I was convinced that was going to happen. Somebody was going to open the door for them; and the thing about Dave's music is that once people heard it, they became lifelong fans.''
Mr. Carter leaves Grammer; his father and stepmother, Robert and Charlene Carter of Tulsa, Okla.; and a sister, Elise Fischer. "
SONG: Between Here and Gone by Mary Chapin Carpenter
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Coconut Telegraph (Jimmy Buffett)
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Gentle Arms of Eden (Dave Carter)
I've been curious as to just which mythical persona I'd choose for myself and this morning went googling for something appropriate, typing in the keywords of "goddess of music" (duh!) - I came up with the following, which seems to fit perfectly, not only for the harmonic part of the equation, but for my love of verse, discovery, creativity, the ocean and kids (I taught/directed preschool for 10 years). Plus I'm drawn to anything Asian, whether furniture/decor/art style or Zen/Buddhist philosophy - to paraphrase MCC, I think I'll keep her!
"BENZAITEN or Benten
Goddess of Music, Poetry, Learning, Art
Goddess of the Sea, Protector of Children
The sea goddess Benzaiten is the sole female among the Seven Lucky Gods of Japan. Her temples and shrines are almost invariably in the neighborhood of water -- the sea, a river, or a pond. She is the patroness of music, the fine arts (dancing, acting, visual) and good fortune in general and is often shown carrying a biwa (Japanese mandolin) or playing a lute. She is often represented as a beautiful woman with the power to assume the form of a serpent or shown seated on a dragon or serpent and playing a lute. In fact, the snake is almost always associated with Benzaiten, who was originally a Hindu deity (Sarasvati) who represented learning, music and poetry. Such artistic learning and wisdom often bring prosperity, hence her inclusion in the Japanese group of seven luckies. She also has a jewel that grants desires. Some say it is a jade, while others say it is a pearl.
Images of Benzaiten often show her with eight arms, holding objects such as bow, arrow, wheel, sword, key, lock and sacred jewel; sometimes two of the hands are folded in reverent prayer. She arrived in Japan soon after the introduction of Buddhism to this island in the 6th century and her worship was based largely on her attributes as described in the Sutra of Golden Light."
P.S. I've often spoken of my technoweenie self and, through investigation and trial/error, blogging has helped me overcome so many cyber-roadblocks - today I learned how to hyperlink (what a concept, eh?... :-) so I'll be using that form to provide further information from now on and, when I have/make time, will go back to edit past posts (zippity!).
SONG: Gentle Arms of Eden by Dave Carter
BOOK: The Red Book: A Deliciously Unorthodox Approach to Igniting Your Divine Spark by Sera J. Beak
POEM: Security by William Stafford
Tomorrow will have an island. Before night
I always find it. Then on to the next island.
These places hidden in the day separate
and come forward if you beckon.
But you have to know they are there before they exist.
Some time there will be a tomorrow without any island.
So far, I haven't let that happen, but after
I'm gone others may become faithless and careless.
Before them will tumble the wide unbroken sea,
and without any hope they will stare at the horizon.
So to you, Friend, I confide my secret:
to be a discoverer you hold close whatever
you find, and after a while you decide
what it is. Then, secure in where you have been,
you turn to the open sea and let go.
QUOTE: "I, the fiery light of divine wisdom, I ignite the beauty of the plains, I sparkle the waters, I burn the sun and the moon and the stars, with wisdom I order all rightly. I adorn the earth. I am the breeze that nurtures all things green. I am the rain coming from the dew that causes the grasses to laugh with the joy of life. I call forth tears, the aroma of holy work. I am the yearning for good." ~ Hildegard of Bingen
Sunday, May 20, 2007
The Mountain (Dave Carter)
My mom was in the hospital overnight for observation, as her illness while visiting us segued to bronchitis which turned into pneumonia - all's well now... but this song choice seemed fitting for a thank-goodness-it-had-a-happy-ending Sunday (one foot in ice, one in fire indeed)...
SONG: The Mountain by Dave Carter
BOOK: Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott
POEM: The House of Belonging ~ David Whyte
I awoke this morning in the gold light
turning this way and that
thinking for a moment it was one day like any other.
But the veil had gone from my darkened heart and I thought
it must have been the quiet candlelight that filled my room,
it must have been the first easy rhythm with which I breathed myself to sleep,
it must have been the prayer I said speaking to the otherness of the night.
And I thought this is the good day you could meet your love,
this is the black day someone close to you could die.
This is the day you realize how easily the thread is broken
between this world and the next
and I found myself sitting up in the quiet pathway of light,
the tawny close-grained cedar burning round me like fire
and all the angels of this housely heaven ascending
through the first roof of light the sun has made.
This is the bright home in which I live,
this is where I ask my friends to come,
this is where I want to love all the things
it has taken me so long to learn to love.
This is the temple of my adult aloneness
and I belong to that aloneness as I belong to my life.
There is no house like the house of belonging.
QUOTE: "Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is, in the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, for in the last analysis, all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace." ~ Frederick Buechner
