Prayer for My Friends (Terri Hendrix)

I am in process of attempting to "get unstuck" - I promise a more detailed, personal and catch-up entry tomorrow... but, in the meantime, here is what I put together, but never posted, for Thanksgiving. Deepest gratitude and boundless thanks to those who have loved me, supported me and reached out... even when I pushed away - you will never know how much it means...

DailyOM
November 25, 2010
Being Truly Thankful
Beyond Counting Blessings

When we are in the state of thankfulness, we are in a higher state of awareness, gratitude at our doorstep. Often when we practice being thankful, we go through the process of counting our blessings, acknowledging the wonderful people, things and places that make up our reality. While it is fine to be grateful for the good fortune we have accumulated, true thankfulness stems from a powerful comprehension of the gift of simply being alive, and when we feel it, we feel it regardless of our circumstances. In this deep state of gratitude, we recognize the purity of the experience of being, in and of itself, and our thankfulness is part and parcel of our awareness that we are one with this great mystery that is life.

It is difficult for most of us to access this level of consciousness as we are very caught up in the ups and downs of our individual experiences in the world. The thing to remember about the world, though, is that it ebbs and flows, expands and contracts, gives and takes, and is by its very nature somewhat unreliable. If we only feel gratitude when it serves our desires, this is not true thankfulness. No one is exempt from the twists and turns of fate, which may, at any time, take the possessions, situations, and people we love away from us. Ironically, it is sometimes this kind of loss that awakens us to a thankfulness that goes deeper than just being grateful when things go our way. Illness and near-miss accidents can also serve as wake-up calls to the deeper realization that we are truly lucky to be alive.

We do not have to wait to be shaken to experience this state of being truly thankful for our lives. Tuning in to our breath and making an effort to be fully present for a set period of time each day can do wonders for our ability to connect with true gratitude. We can also awaken ourselves with the intention to be more aware of the unconditional generosity of the life force that flows through us regardless of our circumstances.

And yesterday's StoryPeople lesson:
Rules for a successful holiday:
1. Get together with the family
2. Relive old times
3. Get out before it blows

SONG: Prayer for My Friends by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: The 7 Great Prayers: For a Lifetime of Hope and Blessings by Paul McManus and Tracey McManus

POEM: Thanks by W. S. Merwin

Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water thanking it
smiling by the windows looking out
in our directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you
in the banks we are saying thank you
in the faces of the officials and the rich
and of all who will never change
we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

QUOTE: “Thank everyone who calls out your faults, your anger, your impatience, your egotism; do this consciously, voluntarily." ~ Jean Toomer

If I Had a Daughter (Terri Hendrix)

(Click on the picture to view it clearly)

Today is our daughter Sarah's 28th birthday - unlike the poem below, she is not married... but the sentiment is the same ("she made it to here"). As parents, we do our very best to raise responsible, kind, smart, generous, witty and respectful children and sometimes, despite our hard work, for one reason or another, it turns out otherwise - to know that, almost three decades after her birth, our daughter is still a source of pride and blessings is more than my husband and I could hope for, much less be able to verbalize...

We hosted a party for her yesterday, at her request, at our home... and it was a joy to see her friends mingle with her office mates hanging with her boyfriend's buddies - she shone as she greeted, introduced and made everyone feel welcome in the worlds-colliding gathering. We grilled out, we played card/drinking games and we engaged in stimulating conversation - okay, there was football game watching, too!

She has not only survived but she has thrived - we did many things right... but we are also lucky to be able to call this amazing young woman our daughter...

SONG: If I Had a Daughter by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: A Short Guide to a Happy Life by Anna Quindlen

POEM: After Our Daughter's Wedding by Ellen Bass

While the remnants of cake

and half-empty champagne glasses

lay on the lawn like sunbathers lingering

in the slanting light, we left the house guests

and drove to Antonelli's pond.

On a log by the bank I sat in my flowered dress and cried.

A lone fisherman drifted by, casting his ribbon of light.

"Do you feel like you've given her away?" you asked.

But no, it was that she made it

to here, that she didn't drown in a well or die

of pneumonia or take the pills.

She wasn't crushed under the mammoth wheels of a semi

on highway 17, wasn't found lying in the alley

that night after rehearsal

when I got the time wrong.

It's animal. The egg

not eaten by a weasel. Turtles

crossing the beach, exposed in the moonlight. And we

have so few to start with.

And that long gestation—

like carrying your soul out in front of you.

All those years of feeding

and watching. The vulnerable hollow

at the back of the neck. Never knowing

what could pick them off—a seagull

swooping down for a clam.

Our most basic imperative:

for them to survive.

And there's never been a moment

we could count on it.

QUOTE: "Suddenly, through birthing a daughter, a woman finds herself face to face not only with an infant, a little girl, a woman-to-be, but also with her own unresolved conflicts from the past and her hopes and dreams for the future.... As though experiencing an earthquake, mothers of daughters may find their lives shifted, their deep feelings unearthed, the balance struck in all relationships once again off kilter." ~ Elizabeth Debold and Idelisse Malave

Joy or Sorrow (Terri Hendrix)

An update on Mom:

Thanks so much to all for the thoughts and prayers - I spoke with Mari last night about 7:30 p.m. and all seemed to be stabilizing. I had asked her to ask the doctor what percentage the lung collapse was (20 - 25% is manageable) - his reply was 5% (sheer relief at hearing that number). They continued to take X-rays to determine what the procedure would be to handle - in the meantime, Mom is on some serious pain medication, which is keeping her comfortable and immobilized to prevent more damage to her already-compromised lungs...

Mari called me this morning a bit before 9 and said the hospital was releasing Mom - they finally left about 11 a.m. (after waiting 2 hours for paperwork to be resolved). They should get the test results back in 3 to 5 days - thinking very positive...

P.S. Thanks to Melanie for the picture inspiration! - I couldn't make the one she sent work, but this one is similar... <3

SONG: Joy or Sorrow by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: The Anatomy of Hope: How People Prevail in the Face of Illness by Jerome Groopman

POEM: Hope by Lisel Mueller

It hovers in dark corners

before the lights are turned on,

it shakes sleep from its eyes

and drops from mushroom gills,

it explodes in the starry heads

of dandelions turned sages,

it sticks to the wings of green angels

that sail from the tops of maples.

It sprouts in each occluded eye

of the many-eyed potato,

it lives in each earthworm segment

surviving cruelty,

it is the motion that runs the tail of a dog,

it is the mouth that inflates the lungs

of the child that has just been born.

It is the singular gift

we cannot destroy in ourselves,

the argument that refutes death,

the genius that invents the future,

all we know of God.

It is the serum which makes us swear

not to betray one another;

it is in this poem, trying to speak.

QUOTE: "Hope is the feeling we have that the feeling we have is not permanent." ~ Mignon McLaughlin

Life's a Song (Terri Hendrix)

Today is Thursday, January 31, 2008 - I began this blog on Monday, May 14, 2007 with the intention of posting daily a thematic song/book/poem/quote revolving around my life's passion for music and literature, more as an exercise in creativity/
journaling/scrapbooking than any desire for feedback or validation. I will pass my 7000-hit mark today, which absolutely amazes me - I'm not a math person, but that equates to almost 1000 hits a month, about 30 a day, mind-boggling when I have absolutely no expectations in the grand scheme of things. Believe me, I understand the perspective - some bloggers actually receive 300 *comments* in *one 24-hour period* :: shakes head in wonderment ::

I assumed I was flying under the radar, "delusions of anonymity", I recently wrote - as a friend responded, "The internet does not allow for such things", and I am finally, dazedly, becoming aware. I have found myself on the RSS feed of a non-traditional, yet prestigious, internet radio station... on the website of one of my favorite musicians... and on the blogrolls of a handful of people whose philosophies I respect and admire - I have been linked to and tagged, and it's all just so d*mn overwhelming and fascinating and fun!

I have met (and been befriended by) some incredible people, and crossed paths with/entertained/enlightened by many others who have no clue as to my existence - it's a small world/spiderweb/ripple effect of a family, one link leading to another, most regular people like me who are documenting their life experiences in small or grand, but always important, ways.

So... whoever you are out there... clicking, reading, commenting... thanks - my spew-and-send has somehow, sometimes touched a chord and I'm feeling extremely grateful... and blessed... and overjoyed to be in this skin at this time on this planet...

All that being said, I am in awe of some stunning (in all senses of the word) blogs out there, timesuckers (in a good way, Martha) that encourage me... spiritually, emotionally, artistically, physically, ecologically, musically, humorously, literarily, organizationally... to learn/laugh/cry in my own journey of self-discovery - in fact, today (Thursday, January 31 by 10:00 p.m.) is the last day to vote for the Eighth Annual Webblog Awards: the 2008 Bloggies. Check out "the best of the best" - I repeat... amazing... :-)

SONG: Life's a Song by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: Clear Blogging: How People Blogging Are Changing the World and How You Can Join Them by Bob Walsh

POEM: The Big Heart by Anne Sexton

"Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold." - from an essay by W. B. Yeats

Big heart,
wide as a watermelon,
but wise as birth,
there is so much abundance
in the people I have:
Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,
Joan, Marie, Dawn,
Arlene, Father Dunne,
and all in their short lives
give to me repeatedly,
in the way the sea
places its many fingers on the shore,
again and again
and they know me,
they help me unravel,
they listen with ears made of conch shells,
they speak back with the wine of the best region.
They are my staff.
They comfort me.

They hear how
the artery of my soul has been severed
and soul is spurting out upon them,
bleeding on them,
messing up their clothes,
dirtying their shoes.
And God is filling me,
though there are times of doubt
as hollow as the Grand Canyon,
still God is filling me.
He is giving me the thoughts of dogs,
the spider in its intricate web,
the sun
in all its amazement,
and a slain ram
that is the glory,
the mystery of great cost,
and my heart,
which is very big,
I promise it is very large,
a monster of sorts,
takes it all in--
all in comes the fury of love.

QUOTE: "I... recommend to every one of my Readers, the keeping a Journal of their Lives for one Week, and setting down punctually their whole Series of Employments during that Space of Time. This kind of Self-Examination would give them a true State of themselves, and incline them to consider seriously what they are about. One Day would rectifie the Omissions of another, and make a Man weigh all those indifferent Actions, which, though they are easily forgotten, must certainly be accounted for." ~ Joseph Addison, 1712

Things Change (Terri Hendrix)

SONG: Things Change by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: Helping Me Help Myself: One Skeptic, Ten Self-Help Gurus and a Year on the Brink of the Comfort Zone by Beth Lisick

POEM: Beannacht ("Blessing") by John O'Donohue

On the day when

the weight deadens

on your shoulders

and you stumble,

may the clay dance

to balance you.

And when your eyes

freeze behind

the grey window

and the ghost of loss

gets in to you,

may a flock of colours,

indigo, red, green,

and azure blue

come to awaken in you

a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays

in the currach of thought

and a stain of ocean

blackens beneath you,

may there come across the waters

a path of yellow moonlight

to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

may the clarity of light be yours,

may the fluency of the ocean be yours,

may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow

wind work these words

of love around you,

an invisible cloak

to mind your life.

QUOTE: "If you don't like something change it; if you can't change it, change the way you think about it." ~ Mary Engelbreit

The Spiritual Kind (Terri Hendrix)

If you’re inclined to learn anything at all about Terri Hendrix, all you really need to do is listen to "Acre of Land" — the centerpiece de resistance of her ninth and latest album, The Spiritual Kind. In a little under four minutes, you’ll come away with more than just the perfect introduction to the San Marcos, TX-based songwriter’s music at its absolute best. You’ll have a veritable map of her heart and a soul, a keen understanding of the philosophy by which she lives her life, and even the secret to her success as a wholly independent businesswoman.

To grow a garden / You’ve gotta have patience
You need to work in it every day
Mother Nature will give you the most resistance
But you can turn it into something anyway …

The garden metaphor carries over into the second verse: "Some throw seeds and cross their fingers/Some plant what they want in a row." And if her thumb "was just a little bit greener," she reflects, well, she’d surely have everything figured out by now. But she’s not afraid to ask questions, speak her mind freely enough to occasionally put her foot in her mouth, learn from her mistakes and sometimes — from the top, with feeling — repeat them all over again. And as the chorus reveals, she’s got a firm grip on the key to survival, be it in life or the music business: Find and nurture your own "acre of land," and, come hell or high water, stand your ground. "I’ve been through the fire/I’ve been through the flood," she sings in the final verse, "The sun beats me down, but I get back up."

The song is a tribute to Marion Williamson, the late philanthropist and gifted musician who took Terri under her wing in the 1990 and, as the oft-told Terri tale goes, gave the aspiring songwriter guitar lessons in exchange for goat-milking farm chores. But Marion taught her young protégé a great deal more than an appreciation for Mississippi John Hurt-style finger picking. She instilled in Terri the strength of will and confidence to weather storm after storm on her way toward building one of the most successful DIY music careers this side of Ani DiFranco. Marion died of cancer in 1997, less than a year after Terri self-released her debut album, Two Dollar Shoes. But 10 years and eight albums later, Terri insists that her late friend still finds ways to guide her. She named her record label Wilory Farm, after Marion’s own several acres of land. She follows the motto, "Own your own universe" — and does, being one of very few recording artists who can proudly claim to own all of their masters.

"Acre of Land" actually predates Terri’s previous album, 2004’s acclaimed The Art of Removing Wallpaper. It didn’t make the final cut for that record, she says, because it still "needed to be fleshed out live." But the fact that it’s been a fully formed highlight of her performances for going on three years now suggests that it was more a matter her knowing that the song’s message was worth saving for a more fitting, uplifting context. As a work of art, The Art of Removing Wallpaper was bold and beautiful — a worthy follow-up to Terri’s back-to-back triumphs with 2000’s Places in Between and 2002’s The Ring. But it was a dark record, too, characterized by songs with telltale titles like "Breakdown," "Judgment Day" and "Monopoly" (about the deregulation of the media) that painted a portrait of the artist staring hard at herself and the world around her, and not entirely pleased with what she saw.

If The Art of Removing Wallpaper chronicled Terri’s passage through fire and flood, The Spiritual Kind finds her celebrating the "get back up" with a palpable sense of hallelujah and rebirth. To call it her most personal record to date would be a disservice to a catalog in which she’s never shied away from the truth. But her most joyous, unguarded and, for lack of any better way to put it, "Terri-to-a-T" record? That sounds about right. In her own words, The Spiritual Kind is the first record she’s ever made where she felt like everything "just kind of clicked in gear."

A lot of that "clicking" had to do with her longstanding drive to continue to evolve as a songwriter and musician every time she steps up to the proverbial plate. It’s a fire Terri’s carried with her ever since she abandoned her classical music scholarship in college, hungering for a form of expression truer to her own heart than opera. Marion helped her coax that ember into an open flame, and for the past decade, it’s been fanned hotter and hotter through Terri’s fortuitous professional partnership with famed producer and multi-instrumentalist Lloyd Maines (Terry Allen, Dixie Chicks). Terri and Lloyd first teamed up to record her second album, 1998’s Wilory Farm, and they’ve worked together ever since, performing at listening rooms, theaters and major folk festivals across the country and Europe as either a crack acoustic folk-duo, or, when augmented by fellow Austin A-listers as Glenn Fukunaga (bass) and Paul Pearcy (drums), as one of the most exciting live acts to come out of Texas since the heyday of Lloyd’s alma-mater, the legendary Joe Ely Band. Playing night after night with the best in Texas, Terri can more than hold her own.

"Lloyd demands excellence," says Terri. "And when you’re constantly put in a position where you have to be at a certain level for things to fly, I think it makes you better. I could really tell in the studio this time around that I was a better musician than I was on Art of Removing Wallpaper. I could feel it. I just felt a lot more confident." That’s especially evident this time around in Terri’s evolution from harmonica neophyte into a full-blown (pun intended) harp freak. "It’s such complex, beautiful instrument," she enthuses. "What intrigues me about it is that it can sound like so many things: a voice, a fiddle, an accordion, even a percussion instrument. It’s become more and more important to my music with each record, to the point that now I really wish I could just take time off and be able to master it." Judging from her inspired solos on songs like "No Love in Texas" and the Jimmy Driftwood cover "What is the Color of the Soul," she’s getting mighty close.

The songs themselves reveal a leap in confidence, too. Stylistically, The Spiritual Kind is typically — by Terri standards — all over the map, jumping deftly from folk to pop to blues to swinging jazz with the anything goes, free-range eclecticism of her live shows. But even her most seasoned fans are in for a few surprises. "The way we approached the record was, anything that we’ve kind of done structurally in the past, we just tried to deviate from that," says Terri. "There’s not one song on here that has a pattern that we’ve done before. The idea was to venture into new territory."

Case in point: "Jim Thorpe’s Blues," saved for late in the record, like a live show’s dizzying, pre-encore climax. Arguably the catchiest song she’s ever written, it’s also one of the most probing and socially charged; clearly, she’s picked up more from Woody Guthrie in recent years than the fierce cover of his "Pastures of Plenty" that graces the first half of the record. Unlike "Acre of Land," "Jim Thorpe’s Blues" probably would have sounded right at home on The Art of Removing Wallpaper — except that Terri admits she could never have written it two years ago.

"I wouldn’t have even known how," she laughs. "But I know more of what I want in my songs now. I feel really proud of ‘Jim Thorpe’s Blues’ because I worked really hard on that song, wanting to achieve a certain goal, and I wasn’t going to settle for anything less. When I started writing it, it was more factual, more like a biography. But I didn’t want it to sound like a book report. What fascinated me most about Jim Thorpe’s story in the first place was, why was I unaware of not only him, but also the fact that his daughter was fighting to keep nuclear waste from being buried on Indian land? That’s what really struck a chord with me, and I wanted to personalize the song to reflect these issues.

"For me, that’s really what makes this record different," she continues. "It’s about awareness, and it’s a tribute to things and people that too often go overlooked." For Terri, that means people like Jim Thorpe, or the migrant workers in "Pastures of Plenty." It’s friends and mentors like Marion and Lloyd, and Austin jazz cat Stanley Smith, whom Terri thanks in the album-closing "Mood Swing" with the same reverence as Anita O’Day, Louis Prima and John Coltrane. And it’s people like guitarist Jesse Taylor and club owners Clifford Antone and C. B. Stubblefield, three late greats of the Texas music scene who collectively inspired more people from the side of (or behind) the stage than any legendary household name. Fittingly, all three are honored in The Spiritual Kind’s title track."

The people that have mattered the most to me in my life and career have been those that are spiritually based," she says. And "the spiritual kind," she explains, are those who strive to sow more joy than sorrow on their own acre of land, and, however possible, share their harvest with the world. By that definition, Terri’s thumbs are a lot greener than she gives herself credit for. "For the past 15 years, my life has revolved around the discovery of music, and the joy of music," she concludes. "And to get the opportunity to do what I do for my living ... how beautiful is that?"


For me, the thrill of a new discovery is unparalleled - I'm fond of repeating the saying that "the teacher appears when the lesson is ready to be learned"... and it's amazing that I can cross paths with something for years but only when I'm finally meant to *get it* does the Epiphany Light Bulb illuminate.

Such is often the case with music recommendations - someone can make a suggestion and I say "yeah yeah yeah" and go along my merry way. When I finally pay attention, because my heart was in the right place, I am in awe of the rightness of the situation - such is the case with today's CD, mentioned to me by Michael Stock, our local folk and acoustic DJ, months ago (actually, on my birthday, when I went on his show to promote our concert series). He raved about Terri's newest recording, and I filed it away in my brain under "someday" - when he played the title cut a few Sundays ago on his program, the line about the jacuzzi leaped out at me and I had a Meg Ryan "yes, yes, yes!" moment (I'll have what he's having... :-)

I immediately ordered The Spiritual Kind, it arrived Monday, and I've been listening to it in my car non-stop - in fact, it's so good that I've come close to disappointment at arriving at my destination. I love the musicianship, her voice and most especially the that's-exactly-where-I-am (or strive-to-be) lyrics - although I'm spotlighting one particular tune, do yourself a favor and read the words to all the songs (If I Had a Daughter is particularly weep- and smile-worthy).

SONG: The Spiritual Kind by Terri Hendrix

BOOK: Leap! What Will We Do with the Rest of Our Lives? by Sara Davidson

POEM: Some October by Barbara Crooker

Some October, when the leaves turn gold, ask
me if I've done enough to deserve this life
I've been given. A pile of sorrows, yes, but joy
enough to unbalance the equation.

When the sky turns blue as the robes of heaven,
ask me if I've made a difference.
The road winds through the copper-colored woods;
no one sees around the bend.

Today, the wind poured out of Canada,
a river in flood, bringing down the brilliant leaves,
broken sticks and twigs, deserted nests.
Go where the current takes you.

Some twilight, when the clouds stream in from the west
like the breath of God, ask me again.

QUOTE: "Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love." ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky