Be set free to sing or hum along

No. 15 | I woke up this morning thinking about aligning stars.  I went to bed thinking about sharing songs.  I spent yesterday evening with a few old friends listening to some wonderfully gifted unknown-to-me songwriters here in town.  It was an evening lit with magic and sincere sharing of hearts and stories and the songs that intertwine them.   

The experience stirred up within me tremendous gratefulness for life, for the life I have been given, the story in which I have been cast as player, and all that has unfolded thus far.  Were I to let you peek inside, you would see that as a songwriter I have known a fair amount of disappointment.  In the very next moment, were you to ask me what in my life I would go back and change, I would answer “not a thing”.   

There is more story to be told here for certain. There is more story for me here to work out. The summary is simply that for whatever reason, for much of my life, the songs have been mostly just for me. That sounds to me selfish as I put it down, but up until very recently, I could not imagine how they might emerge from the everyday business and demands of my life as I have known it. Even today, I have to doubt my doubts concerning these things.

Continue reading “Aligning Stars”

No. 14 | I had a moment yesterday evening that, looking back on it now, I feel as though I experienced from multiple vantage points. From one vantage point, I was just experiencing a simple conversation occurring in time. There was an awkwardness to the conversation that was there because I had brought it. There was another vantage point wherein I was looking on, watching what was taking place, and asking good questions. Why was I feeling the emotions that I was feeling? Did I believe the answers that I was giving to the questions asked of me? Is this who I want to be? As those questions arose, something within me said, “This moment matters. There is something here that you need to work out.” For quite some time after what for most involved was just a passing conversation, I have continued to poke and prod my heart with some helpful questions. 

Between that moment and this, I have done a fair amount of soul searching. And while I am sure I still have much of that left to do, I do see some things that I have needed to see.  

Fundamentally, the conversation was about art. In this case, it concerned music specifically. But at base, the question I afterward found myself wrestling with was this: What is the value of art? 

In May of 2015, Picasso’s Les femmes d’Alger (Version ‘O’) sold at auction for $179.4 million. Picasso may not be the best example as he acquired considerable wealth from his art. Van Gogh’s The Starry Night is valued at over $100 million, and he sold only one painting in his lifetime. So what is the value of unmonetized art? What is the value of the lullaby you make up and sing to your child as you rock her to sleep?  

Continue reading “Art”

No. 13 | I awoke this morning thinking about ostriches. Do they really bury their heads in the sand when confronted with some other threatening, hungry beast that wishes to have them for supper? A quick web search says that they do not. You can read some about it if you are curious like me.

I have a good friend and co-worker who has on occasion said, “Some people are content to sit in their own filth.” I am sure he has phrased this a few different ways. He paints a picture worth considering.

Just the other day I listened to a story told by a holiday fisherman. This fellow and his family had traveled down to the coast and gone out on a charter fishing boat. Upon their return with coolers full of fish, a crew at the dock cleaned and fileted all the fish for them. The teller of the story described the sights and smells of the dock as something unpleasant to the sight and olfactory senses.

The storyteller asks the young man cleaning and prepping his fish, “Do you ever get tired of the smells around here?” The young man looks back and asks, “What smells?”

Now to be clear, this young man was working hard doing a legitimate job with real value. This young man may have had his eyes set on being a future boat captain. He may have had his eyes set on being captain of a hundred boats. I hope so and wish him only and all of the very best.

But that picture, “What smell?” Surely each of us at some time and in some way has “sat in our own filth”. Problems are hard enough to face and overcome when we see them. They can be downright disheartening and leave us feeling that we are absolutely powerless. We are not though, powerless.

If that is the story with the problems that we see, the problems that to us go unseen are a whole other matter. We may see them because we may not see them. We may see them and falsely and to our own detriment convince ourselves they are not so looming or important in the end. We may see them and simply choose the easiest path of all, the fabled ostrich path. The river in Egypt path.

Over the years, I have had good friends, concerned co-workers, caring family members, and loved ones bring to my attention some of my own problems that I either was not taking seriously enough or altogether did not see. Where would I be had these not risked telling me the truth that I either did not see or was not taking seriously enough? I am sure there are many more that are yet to come to light. It is a hard thing to tell someone you deeply care about a truth that stings. It can be a very hard thing to hear it. We need each other that way. We need to love each other and hold each other up in the midst of the difficult things we must face. We need to encourage one another that things can get better.