You know, I really do want and hope that you, the readers of this blog, gain something positive from the reading. I write about what’s happening with me, but my hope is that you can somehow internalize the words as reflecting your sorrows, griefs, loves, successes, hopes, and dreams. This week’s post is no different, unless you can relate to its being more positive, well, than at least the last one. Two experiences highlight my week, and both are positive.
The spoiler (the poem) is at the end. The second experience took place on Thursday. I was at a local music store picking up some equipment when Thaddeus mentioned that they were holding an open mic session in the recital room that evening. Thaddeus, who hosts, said he’s been struggling with turnout. “Please come play.” It would just be, hopefully, two or three musicians. I quickly realized it was time to put up or shut up. I agreed to come back that evening.
And so it appeared to be – at first. Then people kept arriving. A total of seven musicians performed, of which I was the third; five singer song writers and two pianists. There were also nearly a dozen others in the audience.
My heart began pounding as Thaddeus started things off. Probably the most polished of all of us, he played four original songs. In fact, all five guitarists played original music. By the time Joe finished his five originals, I knew I was next up. Though I felt that I at least belonged there, my stress level was high.
I played five songs beginning with Anything to Please (not yet recorded), Chameleon, Heart of Logic, Tell Elizabeth I Love Her, and The Song I Never Wrote For You. All were received well and applauded. And though I made several mistakes, some obvious, I was clearly in an empathetic crowd. After all was done, several people came up to me with appreciation for my playing and my songwriting skills.
I did it! I played in public in front of people I don’t know. It has begun. I am fulfilling a commitment I made to Pam (posthumously) and to myself, to step out into a new life that includes sharing myself, and in a way Pam, with – the world?
As you might imagine, I was pretty stoked when I got home. A nice Spring evening. I opened a can of beer and walked around the pond. It was then that my emotions caught up with me and, of course, I began to cry (as I am while writing this). Pam was not with me to share the dream. That coupled with the realization that I was actually going on with a new, still unfamiliar and uncomfortable life. And Pam would approve. Such a melancholy gift. Yet I have to move forward with my heart still in the past, hoping for a future that honors her life – and mine.
The Promised Poem – Promising Spring
Last Tuesday I began my day in contemplation, as usual, staring out the window at the birds flitting around the feeders, and suddenly this popped into my head. I had to write it down immediately in the journal I keep by my chair. I rather like it. I like its positivity. So here it is:
Flitting Birds
Branches Rustling
Sweetly Singing
Towering Trees
Skyward Reaching
Gently Swaying
Flowers Panning
Pedals Unfolding
To Heaven Praying
Greens and Blues
A Sunny Day
Gone the Gray
At Least Today