good-bye, good friend

My first thought this morning on reading that Kenny Rogers has died was, "poor Dolly." My second thought was how grateful I am for all his music. 

Kenny Rogers was a surprising guilty pleasure for me as a teenager. I used to say I hated all country music except Kenny Rogers but it turns out he was a gate-way artist to other guitar-forward storytellers like Garth Brooks, The Dixie Chicks, and ... okay, maybe just those two. 

I discovered Kenny Rogers, beyond The Gambler, at a babysitting gig when I was 13 or 14. My beloved Shiney and her family had recently moved away, and I was missed her terribly. There wasn't a lot of other music in the house I was babysitting at, so I was working my way through Kenny Rogers and social studies when I heard this song and teared up. 

You were a good friend

I listened to it over and over again so I could write out the lyrics and send them to Shiney. In the process, I memorized every line, note and inflection. 

You were a maverick ...

We'd tell stories 'round the campfire late at night when it was down to just you and me ...

Good friend, why did you have to go,

Just when I was getting to know you?

I'll sing this song to show.

You were a good friend, 

They don't make them quite like you,

And in my memories, you'll always be, a good good friend to me. 

I'd go about my day and hum the chorus. Chetwynd was a lonely place for me as a teenager, and it helped to remember my loving friends in other towns. 

Life moves on. People grow and change. And friendships, like all relationships, flourish or wither depending on how they are tended. And nearly 40 years later, this song - even just that gentle piano intro - takes me back - to a beige sofa, a scratchy LP, and the moment Kenny Rogers bridged more than 260 miles for a lonely teenager. 

If I close my eyes, it doesn't hurt quite so bad. 

hold on

I hardly remember a time when I've been in a car and not also been singing a song. Sometimes in the sunshine, a happy beach-lovers song, my hand dancing in the waves of out the window, warmth radiating off the whole world. Walking on sunshine. Not caring who hears or sees or laughs. At other times, the windows are sealed tight while my heart bursts open. A ballad. A love song for the lonely hearted. The pathetic fallacy of the rain outside keeping pace with my tears, with my loneliness. I try to remember - this song fills that space. This song eases that ache. I choke, spittle joins the tears. I pull over until the song is done. 

I thought we were ending. I always think we're ending. And then this song came on. We were just turning right, heading home from a wet coastal weekend. And this song came on. His hand was on the gear shift, and I touched it tentatively. We warbled. We are not warblers, except when there are tears in our eyes and words choked back in our throats. We warbled. We harmonized. We were okay. The road has continued to twist and turn. We continue to be okay. 

---

Today's Prompt:

1. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Write about a time you taught someone a lesson you didn't want to teach.

2. Talk about a time when you were driving and you sang in the car, all alone. Why do you remember this song and that stretch of road?

test

Testing the microphone. The lips the teeth the tip of the tongue. The lips the teeth the tip of the tongue. Some nights I’m ready to roll out the barrel. Some nights I hide in the corner. A lover of the limelight, and the silences in between. Praying for the balance of yes and no, of company and solitude, of gratitude and striving for more, of light and dark.

And always, always, remembering those nights. Some nights. When someone else is the one to bring me back to that all important matter of who I am, who I am, who I am.

---

Writing project prompt: Test

AND

Write at the Merge prompt:

I found a martyr in my bed tonight
She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am

from Fun, Some nights

AND

image courtesy of leo.jeje (via Flickr Creative Commons)

playing the melody

The piano sits to the side of our kitchen – the only room it would fit in when the weary movers saw our narrow ‘character house’ entrance. Mostly it is just there – the holder of space and memories. It has been important to me since I was 5, and yet, for the most part, it sits ignored.

I have the best of intentions to do more than just wrangle out a roll or two on odd occasions – Christmas, family visits, new friends who haven’t seen it before. I want to do more. To accompany my picked-out melody, a big-note easy ‘The Rose’ with harmonies, some bass, maybe even some fabulous deep rhythms.

it's time to light the lights

Tonight I was transported. I was moved, touched, and inspired. And I was transported to a scratchy theatre seat with little padding. I was swooped up and carried back to 1980, to a small town theatre where I was introduced to one of my first and most lasting heroes.

I was reminded tonight why I so admire my small green hero - his tenacity. His leadership. His willingness to overcome his own limitations and fears and pursue his loves and dreams. He showed me then - and reminded me tonight - that no matter where you start from, and no matter what has happened since then, you really can live your dreams. He reminded me that your dreams don't matter if you have to leave the one you love to pursue them. And he and his friends reminded me that everything is better with music.

As a small town girl who dreamed of singing and dancing and acting and being famous, the story of a singing and dancing frog from a Louisiana swamp who makes it all the way to Hollywood was all I have ever needed to witness to think maybe it could happen to me too. And catching up with Kermit and his friends was the perfect medicine tonight.

I've been over-the-moon excited ever since I first heard a new Muppet movie was coming out, and the more I heard the more excited I got. As high as my expectations were, it did not disappoint. Not in the least. It was new and fresh and 100% loyal to the Muppet tradition of gentle preaching, encouraging songs, campiness, and more cameos than you can shake a stick at (just WAIT 'til you see who all is in this movie!).

The opening/closing 'big' song is a definite winner. Catchy and easy to pick up, witty and very seat-danceable (here's a little snippet): 

I doubt it will ever recreate in me the reaction I have to "The Rainbow Connection" - but that was my song in my generation and 'Life's a Happy Song' may be some young girls song now.

In fact, then new movie revisits The Rainbow Connection - among other beloved favourite Muppet tropes - and from the opening chord I sang along with a tear in my eye. I don't think the other people in the theatre minded. Mine certainly wasn't the only voice in the audience.

It's no secret that my spirit's been a little flat of late, and few things like music boost it. This song in particular - with it's connection not just to that small town theatre of long ago where a frog taught me it's okay to dream, but also of singing my BBs to sleep and hoping they dream to - never fails to remind me to believe. In love, and dreams, and magic and myself.

Please go see The Muppets. You are not too cool, or too grown up, or otherwise immune to its charm & wisdom. We need all the hope we can get these days. At some point in the movie, someone says the Muppets are no longer relevant. That what people want now is bashing each other in the head and cynicism. That statement is sadly recognizable, but the point of the movie - one of many good points - is that people really DO still want the Muppets. We want music and laughter and team work and family and hope.

Oh, and by the way ... mana mana ;-) 

hold on

The lucky ones - off on another adventure

I first heard this song when STG & I were driving home from Ucluelet last weekend. I was exhausted & achey and like oh so many songs it made me teary, especially when STG sang along.

I've got it on loop this morning ... for no reason other than I like it.

I hope it gives someone encouragement when they need it. That Michael Bublé ... such a tear jerker :) .

---

Didn’t they always say we were the lucky ones?
I guess that we were once,
Babe, we were once.
But luck’ll leave you cause it is a faithless friend
And in the end, when life has got you down
You’ve got someone here that you can wrap your arms around.

So hold on to me tight,
Hold on to me tonight.
We are stronger here together
Than we could ever be alone,
So hold on to me, don’t you ever let me go.

There’s a thousand ways for things to fall apart
But it’s no one’s fault,
No it’s not my fault.
Maybe all the plans we made might not work out
But I have no doubt, even though it’s hard to see
I’ve got faith in us and I believe in you and me

So hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it’ll be alright.
Cause it’s you and me together
And baby, all we’ve got is time,
So hold on to me, hold on to me tonight

There’s so many dreams that we have given up
Take a look at all we’ve got
And with this kind of love
What we’ve got here is enough

So, hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it’ll be alright
Cause we are stronger here together
Than we could ever be alone
Just hold on to me, don’t you ever let me go

Hold on to me, it’s gonna be fine
Hold on to me ... tonight
Didn’t they always say we were the lucky ones?

priceless

Swingy dress for dancing in his arms = $30

Sexy shiny heels so I smile right into his eyes = $20

Singing along together at Naturally 7 & Michael Bublé concert = $178

Celebrating 6 months with STG ... you know. :)

I think we might be the cutest couple ever!

I hate to succumb to a terrible cliché, but last night was incredible for so many reasons. STG and I have been excited about the Michael Bublé & Naturally 7 concert ever since it was first announced a few months ago. The tickets have been safely displayed on my dresser mirror since June 18. We sometimes wonder what, beyond loving each other, we have in common, and music is one of those things we share. 

There has been a day or two when I thought we might not make it there - to the six month mark, or the concert, at least not as a couple. So to finally be there, having first shared a lovely dinner, and listening to two of our favourite acts was ... well I don't really have the words for something that feels so special and so natural at the same time - other than priceless. And that all encapsulates what loving STG is for me- special, natural, priceless. And last night was that to a whole new level. 

Every day with STG is easy. And this night - full of romance and great music - had me glowing from the moment we left for dinner. The undeniable highlight for me was this amazingly romantic song borrowed from Van Morrison - incredible to begin with, but heart-achingly poignant when experienced with STG's beautiful baritone softly singing along in my ear, his arms wrapped around me as we sway to the music. Life just doesn't get any better. 

Thank you, STG for six amazing months, and for one amazing night. And just remember, "I promise you kid that I'll give so much more than I get!" and that's really saying something, because what I get is soooooooooo good! 

M - Musical

Finally, an obvious connection: Me & Music & Christmas. Music has been a big part of my life for ... ever. Some of my favourite moments with my sisters were singing around our piano and in our church. Singing then was both a bonding thing in our family, and a way to explore, develop and express my faith. Singing has ultimately become one of the number one ways that I feel free and myself. I love music - not only creating it but also listening. It seems like whenever I am stuck for words or trapped in my head, there's a song available that says what I can't.

Yesterday I attended a Christmas concert with the City of Gardens Chorus - an all women acapella barbershop quartet style chorus. They were a bit blinged out for my taste, but the music was perfection. And when they sang Silent Night in 5 part harmony, I teared up. Silent Night for pete's sake! I've probably heard it 20 times already this season, and have sung it every week for the past eight at my own choir practices, but there they were - tears, sniffles. And I realised that what was buried beneath all my enjoyment of the night was the loneliness that's been an unusually constant companion lately.

I told DivaMoe about it last night and she set me to rights, "music is the sound of heaven ... and you've always been moved by music.... you were just at a 'quiet' spot where you could feel." She's a wise woman, that DivaMoe, and to be honest I kinda like that I'm someone who loves and is moved by music. And having so much great music flooding my life at this time of year is even better.

By the way - want to hear a little bit of my choir as we get ready for our Christmas concert this Friday? Check out this video on our website. If you like what you hear, tickets are still available. :)

Things I ♥ Thursdays: Let it Shine, let it Shine, let it SHINE

When my reminder that it's Things I Love Thursday popped up today, instead of my usual "yay! something to write about" I thought - oh crap, I've written about all the things I love.

I'm sure that can't possibly be true. I mean, I've only had theme Thursdays for a few months now, and even though the posts often contain a list of items, it's not possible that I've exhausted all the joyous moments of life. And then I remembered that originally it wasn't just supposed to be any random things I adore, but the shining moments of the last week when I did something I love.

So I looked. And then I remembered a shining moment - I sang on Monday. Not a whole song. Not a planned performance. And not brilliantly. But I sang, with my whole heart "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine."

What most of the 80 or so people in the room didn't know was that that's not the first time I've performed that particular song. We sing it regularly in my choir - in the version below - but even that is not where I first performed it.

No, once upon a time 5-year old Shanny in a long white cotton dress with red buttons, holding a white taper candle with a protective tin foil handle stood on her church stage and sang her little heart out. And when we got to the verse "Won't let Satan *puff* it out" little Shanny puffed too hard. And her candle went out. And she thought that had meant Satan had won. And through her tears she watched her cherished Sunday School teacher Gary re-light the candle. And she wiped her tears and sang on.

Last Thursday I was looking for a saying for myself. Something to pull me forward in those moments when I forget who I am. Something Sacred that would restore me to myself and who I truly am. And it came to me, first as a saying. Then as a hum. And then as a wiping-my-tears-and-singing-on proclamation:

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

And so on Monday, in my seminar, when the seminar leader asked if I'd sing my Sacred Saying, I smiled, and took a deep breath, and began. And then I just stood there and shone.

A Generic Life

Somedays life seems like a romantic comedy. Or I really wish it did and try to make it fit. A comedies of error filled with self-conscious laughter. Wistful smiling glances over a shared repast. Nudges and meddling friends and miscommunications that get all cleaned up with a slow kiss. Meg Ryan cast as me, and John Cusack sweeping me off my two left feet into happily ever after. Only we never see the ever after, so how do we know it goes happily?

Other times it's a heart-rending romantic drama - all sweeping montages covering time and space, wistful soaring ballads, and people running in slow motion  - which, by the way, is WAY harder to do in real life! Decade long love affairs that never quite work out (have you ever dated a Heathcliffe? That mad woman in the attic is SO annoying!). Repudiations, and angry shouts, and slamming doors, and private longing and half-spoken half-truths. A slow fade to blech.

I even have musical days. Mostly when I'm around my mom, or have opened up my piano, and mom or I will say a word that suddenly becomes a lyric (I dare you to say 'accentuate' or 'summertime' around us). And the next thing you know the music swells and we're surrounded by a chorus line of quick-stepping, high-kickers in matching outfits and five-part harmony. Okay, that last part is a lie, but we do like to sing, and to demonstrate our vast knowledge of un-cool songs. And to harmonize. And if pressed I can imagine we would link arms and do a little step-kick-step-touch. Fun, but hard to sustain for more than a joyous interlude.

What I really imagine my life to be, though, is an epic adventure. Fabulous people in far-flung cities. Chance meetings. Serendipitous wrong turns. Momentous incidents and minuscule moments of beauty. "Out of Africa" without the cheating and syphilis. And no blazing guns either, please - I'm a pacifist, not just a dramatist. I'm Amelia Earhart (with better teeth and a black box) and Scarlett O'Hara and Molly Brown and pretty much any character Katherine Hepburn played. And I might want a man, but I sure don't need him. Or at least that's what I sometimes like to think.
 
I'm really excited about the adventure I'm in the middle of creating for myself. I just hope it doesn't turn into a talk show.

So, what's your genre?

captain of my own vessel

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the direction of my life, whether I'm really actively living or just surviving, and wondering how much my passivity has influenced the lack of action in my BBs' lives. To be honest, I was pretty much beating myself up about it. And I realised last week (it was a Deep Thoughts with Jack Handy kind of moment) that I can't pave someone else's road, I can only carve out my own path and hope they see how to do it. And then I kind of went back to doing nothing about it except wondering and worrying and fretting and dealing with each day that came along.

I've thought often of a willow tree, and how it has such deep roots that it cannot be blown down by winds, but instead has the grace and flexibility to remain rooted while bending with the wind. A rigid cottonwood seems stronger, but snaps in any storm. But the willow bends and sways and goes on being where it's planted, doing what it's designed to do. I love willow trees.

So here I am at work (shhhhh - don't tell anyone I'm blogging at work!) and a song I swear I've never heard before and certainly don't remember downloading starts playing in my songlist. And Garth Brooks croons

You know a dream is like a river
Ever changin' as it flows
And a dreamer's just a vessel
That must follow where it goes
Trying to learn from what's behind you
And never knowing what's in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores...and

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
Until the river runs dry

And I teared up. And stopped the song. And started it again. And teared up and let it play all the way through. And then I listened again. And again. And then I decided to share it with you.

@ Yahoo! Video

I don't know when it became okay to give up on my dreams. Maybe it was standing in line at the food bank. Or when once too often I had to tell a BB no because of money. Or when I went from too many teaching jobs to too few and then realised that I'd mortgaged our future on an education I'm not using.  But somewhere along the way I just gave up. To the point where now I'm not sure I could realy tell you what my dreams are for sure, but I know they aren't this.

And yes, I know I have a long history of songs being epic and emotional touchstones for me. But I can't think of a song that I would more love to have be me ephithet (or do I mean epitaph?). Either way. I think it's time I return to sailing my vessel. If you want the rest of the lyrics, here they be.

"The River"
You know a dream is like a river
Ever changin' as it flows
And a dreamer's just a vessel
That must follow where it goes
Trying to learn from what's behind you
And never knowing what's in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores...and

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Too many times we stand aside
And let the waters slip away
'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow
Has now become today
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
And say you're satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
There's bound to be rough waters
And I know I'll take some falls
But with the good Lord as my captain
I can make it through them all...yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Yes, I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
'Til the river runs dry

Written by Victoria Shaw & Garth Brooks

On the other hand

I love Christmas. I get very excited; I make big plans; I enjoy the build up and the anticipation. I often think that when my time comes I want people to say of me, as they did of Scrooge, that " he knew how to keep Christmas well if any man alive possessed the knowledge." (except maybe they could adjust the pronouns).

And then sometimes there's this let-down of being unable to attain my ideal Christmas and having instead to accept the Christmas I have. Of course, that only happens when I focus on the "tinsel & trappings" instead of on what I really love about this season - being with family, surprise and delight, joy and love. But the let-down happens none-the-less (as do all the blessings).

Today I woke up like it's just any other day when I have more I've promised to do than I have time to do it, and when what I want to do is very far away from what I need to do. I want to go gift shopping, and bake treats, and find the missing ingredient that will make my first tree with Cowboy perfect (it's missing something, but I can't tell what), but what I need to do is get to yoga, and complete some client work, and take care of the banking, and keep my appointments.

I'm letting life get in the way of my experience of peace on earth and goodwill to all. So it seemed like perfect timing that I got a reminder this morning of two Christmas funk songs. They are actually two of my favourite Christmas songs, I suppose because you have to have a little dark to really see the light.

Enjoy.

Fairytale of New York: The Pogues with Kirsty McColl

The River: Robert Downey Jr. (unfortunately there's no real music video for this)

Living a Life I Love

*NOTE: September 8, 2009* I've just imported this and about 17 other posts from an older blog that was private - basically I wanted a support system for creating the things I really want in my life. Only only letting a few people know what I wanted didn't work. So here they are, in all their glory, edited to reflect what I REALLY want.*

This blog is my way of sharing about my promises to myself on the journey of creating a life I love. There are specific things I am committed to creating in my own life, and I'll be tracking my progress towards those goals here.

The basic element of a structure for fulfillment is really a journey: I am at A and want to get to B. The structure outlines the various ways in which I can get from A to B. You know you have a great structure for fulfillment when it is fun & inspiring & when you can see multiple avenues that would have you get where you want to go. So where do I want to go?

• Lose 37 pounds
• Support BB2 in getting a job
• Double SCW Ink income
• Return to teaching
• Be lit up about my relationship (a.k.a. Love the one I'm with)
• Discover & support whatever BB1 wants
• Publish one item every month