This is one of those weekend days that I have from time to time, more often than not actually. It was a quiet, low key kind of day. It’s not like I had a long to-do list or a full slate of planned activities, so in that sense I didn’t have high expectations of what I would get done today. In fact, other than preparing lunch, dinner and dinner for tomorrow for Michal and me, I couldn’t really say what I accomplished today. I have to continually remind myself that life is not solely about accomplishment, about getting things done. It seems at times like I am surrounded by doers doing. We spend so much time doing we miss out on being.
As I write this evening, I can hear my daughter in her room playing her guitar and singing. Yes, singing. Her throat is vastly improved, the antibiotics having kicked in sometime yesterday afternoon such that by this morning she was at “80%” toward feeling better. This is a tremendous relief. She had been so miserable, she said she felt like she was swallowing shards of glass her throat hurt so much. She has been able to eat solid food again today and her disposition is much improved and her spirits are high. So there she is in her room playing and singing. And without intending to she is sending me a message, a reminder about being, about flowing, about the power that comes from doing something you love.
I am so grateful for the gift of music. Even in the midst of all the doing, I’m finding time to sing more, though I haven’t had my guitar out of its case for a few weeks. In the midst of working and commuting, of anxieties and pressures, of national tragedies and personal cares, the power of music to quiet, soothe, heal is a palpable thing and a voice raised in song is very nearly, if not actually, a prayer. Music is a gift I’ve shared with my children from their childhood. The three of us used to get on our various instruments–Jared on drums, me on guitar and Michal on vocals–singing three part harmonies on Sesame Street songs. It makes me happy that each of them has gone on to sharpen their musical talents far beyond my own abilities. They each in their own rights are excellent musicians and singer-songwriters, just like me. It puts a smile on my face just to think about that.
These days I have a lot on my mind–responsibilities and obligations I need to meet, things I want to accomplish over the course of the next several weeks and months, personal projects I want to undertake. I do not know at this moment how I will go about doing the various things that I should do and those I must do; but I know that there are things that my soul needs, without which all the doing in the world won’t make any difference. So I want to practice being even as my daughter reminded me tonight. I want to be present for and notice each moment as best I can without focus or worry about what’s going to happen in the next moment or the next day or the next year. So tonight as I take my rest I will bathe my mind in peaceful, grateful, loving thoughts and wake to face the new day with my fresh set of mercies and grace. May it be so.
