I love one little part of this.
It comes up over and over.
Can you hear it?
It’s the pause where you
look up from your book and smile,
after all we’ve been through,
resting in our hearts.
I love one part of this.
I hope it comes up over and over.
Can you imagine it?
It’s the part where you’re next to me
and we’re resting together,
the fire crackling,
filled with quiet warmth,
in the space
we’ve always known we belong.
~ cj 2012.12.17
I was just starting to make melodies up last time we were together. I wonder what you think when I send you these pieces. I wonder if it shows up with an obligation attached, or is it the gift I mean it to be?
I wonder if your musically knowing ears cringe at my mistakes? Or do you know somewhere inside you that this is a step forward for me I would have never guessed I’d be able to take. It is an exercise for me in putting mistakes willingly out in the world. And it is an exercise in being me, in showing up, in trusting that there is something meaningfully beautiful in me wanting to play itself out, even if I don’t always get it right.
And for that, instead of hearing the errors and the misses, the lack of tempo and the wandering, perhaps you hear it with the same love you see me with, and simply enjoy, like I do, that I’ve come this far at all.