I sought solace in the flute, but it was elusive.
I sought solace in the guitar and brought it nearer.
Perhaps in silence I will find it.
Tonight I am grateful for the gift that music is in my life. It provides me with such pleasure when I’m happy, comfort when I’m sad, peace when I’m restless, and such emotional support more than many other things. The word music is derived from a Greek word that means “art of the muses” and it has surely been that for me. Tonight as I had been feeling particularly restless, I first went to my frame drum; often I find resonance in the rhythm and voice of the drum and can lift myself into a dance with it. This evening I could tell that it wasn’t the drum. Likewise I played both of my cedar flutes, each one soothing in its own right. Often it can drop me into relaxed wordlessness where it’s just me and the sound of the wind blowing through the wood. But tonight it was not in the flute.
Finally I picked up one of my four guitars–my twelve-string Guild that I’ve had the longest of my current crop of instruments. I let my fingers choose the song, playing the beginning chords of an old tune from the 70s and allowing my voice to make music along with the strings. I played it in three different keys to see which one favored my voice and found that all three had merit in one form or another. The biggest gift came in the playing and singing, and I knew that after a few minutes I would be able to exhale and write this blog.
I have been playing the guitar since I was 15 years old; I find myself shaking my head in disbelief when I realize that means I’ve been playing for 40 years. Somehow I hadn’t realized I’ve gotten older. In all those years I played at church, wrote songs and entertained folks all through college, played and sang original songs at the weddings of three of my siblings. Through all these times I’ve been blessed to have owned about a dozen guitars, and I’ve given away at least four of them.
My Guild guitar came to me unexpectedly. I had given away my first twelve-string to a friend–as odd as it sounds, I’d felt like God was telling me to give it to her. When I did I’d felt totally fine about it, though that guitar had been very precious and had deep sentimental meaning for me. I continued to play on an old six-string Yamaha and was grateful to have it. I played it and sang, along with my younger sister, at my mother’s funeral in May of 1995. About a week later my now ex-husband called me upstairs into our room. Sitting on the bed was a guitar case. This was a very good thing as my old case had gotten quite ragged and was in sore need of replacing. When I opened the case to check out the inside, there sat a guitar, a beautiful, Guild twelve-string guitar.
“It isn’t brand new,” he said apologetically, “but the guy at the guitar store said it’s in great condition and is a very good instrument.”“Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful.” I lifted it reverently out of the case. “But what made you buy it?” (I knew we couldn’t really afford it.)
He shook his head. “It made me sad to see you play that old six-string at your mother’s funeral. I wanted you to have something better to play at your sister’s wedding.”
My younger sister’s wedding was scheduled to take place two weeks after my mother’s funeral (we hadn’t known the timing would work out as it did.) I held the guitar and felt the spirit of it, saw the worn places near the pick guard and scratches and dings placed there by the previous owner. I felt the silent awe and appreciation for the thoughtfulness of the gift and the beauty of the instrument. A week later I played the new guitar and sang the song I’d written in honor of my sister’s wedding and of our mother’s spirit as she watched over the proceedings.
Music is what allowed me to transcend the sadness of one event and bring beauty to another. Playing and singing my own songs gave me the ability to voice emotions I’d had no other outlet for and were healing for a bruised and weary soul. Songwriting has been a way for me to make sense of my world, and occasionally make fun of it. I have been able to offer to others the gift of music bringing joy and release to others. When I play I am in a place of flow that I seldom find anyplace else. Sometimes when I sing for others, I feel a connection between my spirit and theirs and we each are in communion. Music has been and continues to be a life giving, affirming, strengthening, powerful force in my life. For that I remain deeply grateful.
