Lifted this from Crazy Aunt Purl
but it felt so right. Watching this reminds me of how I feel after I've been singing - especially singing with others in choir. No matter how blue or tired I feel or how crappy my day has been, good music makes my heart sing:)!
Today brought more sadness - had a couple of hearings this morning and in the midst of them, found out that one of people who works at the courthouse had been killed in a car accident last night. She was a nice person who seemed to enjoy her job and definitely enjoyed life. I know that she leaves behind a husband, her mother (who recently lost a son to cancer), and a number of canine "children." May light perpetual shine upon her and may that same light comfort those who feel her absence the most.
The past few weeks really have caused me to question my purpose during this short sojourn we call life. And I keep coming back to music. Allow me to explain.
When I'm singing in choir, I need to hear the others and sing with the others to make any kind of sense. For the piece to sound as it should, I have to do my part - a part that alone can make a certain kind of sense or even sound good by itself- but a part that nonetheless finds its real meaning in tandem with others. I have described this sensation as being one thread in a beautiful tapestry that weaves in and out of the other threads. Perhaps the beauty of that one thread is not apparent, but when one steps back from the tapestry and sees the pattern, the colors and the richness, the thread blends into the beauty of the whole. But the thread, however small, is necessary to that tapestry.
Some threads, like some musical parts, are more interesting or "bigger" than others, but all of them are necessary to have the full sound, or keeping with the tapestry analogy, the full picture.
I am 55 years old. I am not a particularly great singer, or knitter, or lawyer or even, Heaven help me, mother or wife. But my life and my choices have been a part of the great Composition or Tapestry of this universe. And I believe that the universe is a created thing, created by One of infinite goodness. A goodness I cannot always see or a melody that I cannot always hear because I am just a thread in the middle of that tapestry or a melodic line that I can only hear from within the roar of a million voices. I have not yet stepped away and heard the melody or seen the tapestry. There are a few in this life who have the grace to do just that and we should listen to them.
So how do we know if what we are doing is what is necessary to keep the composition going the way it's supposed to?
That, my friend, is the question. I don't know the answer, but I do ask the Composer to guide my steps every so often. I think it was St. Augustine who said, "Love God and do what you want." I'm sure all the sacred traditions have wisdom about this.
Would love to hear your ideas.
Whatever the future holds, dear readers, God be with you 'til we meet again.
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Comments
Some sing low, some sing higher,
Some sing out loud on the telephone wire
Some just clap their hands or paws or anything they've got now
(from the song of the same name, by Bill Staines)
Music is great, you get to be part of something bigger than yourself, but still know your contribution counts.
I always like ringing handbells with you, Nancy, and the motley crew.
I've given up trying to figure out why YHVH beats his worshippers into the ground. His wrath against his followers is directly proportional to their love of YHVH. Go figure.
I felt a pang of pain when reading about the colleague who was killed and would not be going home to her dogs. The pain was for the dogs who wouldn't know why she hadn't come back. Daft huh? (my word verification for this post is SADABLE. Talk about synchronicity!)
INdigo - thanks so much! I don't think its YHWH who beats worshippers. I think it's the same God as the New Testament - it's the limited human understanding of Her that gets screwed up!
Colin - thanks so much - and I do understand - not daft at all. I felt much the same way about Brenda Dayne's friend Jean when she left "Miss Bette Davis" behind and actually posted a comment on her blog asking after that poor little bereft pug. Dogs are innocent, aren't they? They internalize things as children do, thinking it's their fault somehow. That makes me so very sad.