No words today. Heart wrung too raw with a week of accumulated griefs, yet ever committed to hope as a moral obligation. I have not held my guitar in years. Today I dusted it off to try to remember some things. Warmed up with this old favorite by the legendary Tom Waits. Forgive my faltering. I am no musician, only a seeker.
You sound fantastic here. There were plenty of times in the past when I would have begged to have someone like you in a band with me. Stunning.
As for your griefs, I offer my condolences and sympathies. If there is anything I can do to help, please reach out.
Michael, thank you so much for this encouragement. I want to make a point of returning to music, And for your solidarity. This week, my griefs are not exactly “mine” in the personal sense (I can’t always make the expected distinction in that department) but I have had one of those weeks for noticing that even though I’ve been teaching for 20 years in a vibrant community where I often get to see everything all at once, up close, I’m still a sponge and sometimes it just all collects to the point of overwhelm because there’s rarely a chance to pause. Thank you, friend.
I think I understand what you mean, but don’t want to assume too much.
Take care and the offer stands nonetheless, my friend.
Sometimes no words says more than words. There is no escaping suffering, hopefully you have people to walk with you, accept you, and see you! You voice is as sweet as your words, and absence of them
Alex, thank you. I am grateful to be surrounded by people I love and admire in this common work of nurturing hope. And grateful to you : )
It is getting dark, and we still have miles to go, but I know, the sun will rise again. Hang in there my friend!
As real as it gets … I feel your heart. Thank you. Hugs.
Hugs to you, sister.
there are no lamentations, only time
Mark, I love this, thank you.
Really loved the song Stacey. You were all in for it. The guitar will remind us of our absence but always forgives
Mark, how I love this line: “The guitar will remind us of our absence but always forgives.” Thank you for this.
Great, sensitive rendition.
Thank you, Chris.
My pleasure.