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Archive for the ‘finding your voice’ Category

old radio

Singers and writers have a lot in common, needing to sing in the voice they’ve been given……the song that’s at hand.

“I MADE PEACE WITH MY VOICE 10 years ago,”
he says,
and I turn up the volume
so I can hear the interview
over the water running in the bathroom sink,

everything going down the drain so fast.
A metaphor for how I feel.

I can’t write the stuff
I once did
and need to let it go
.

Emmylou says
“I’ve really shaken hands with where my voice is now.
It’s got some more grooves in it.”

And maybe that’s where I need to go,
to the hand shake,
not stand at a distance,
sizing it up,
trying to decide.

Cross the room, shake the hand.

“With me it was never about my voice
as much as how can I tell the story of this song.
And if I really love a song, nothing is gonna get in my way…”

I give up too easily.

“… and if I can’t go as high as I would like
then I’m just gonna stay low.”

And didn’t I just love that?

* * *

*Catch the interview: “Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell: Staying Low

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A THOUSAND WORDS A DAY, I see it’s been.
Not on purpose, not a goal,
but just because my pockets were full.

This is how the economics of writing works.
You have to spend it all.
Every day.

1,000 words a day, give or take a few,
and the proof,
a 3-ring binder,
new in summer,
once holding a solitary sheet,
now almost full.

What’s given in a day
must be spent,
all of it.

Next day, if needed, more comes.

A FEARFUL WRITER, risk-averse,
always saving for the rainy day,
finds this a difficult principle to act upon,

to pull the pockets inside-out
and shake free
every crumb,
every bit of lint,
every last comma.

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I was told I should write this. (Why do I feel the need to deflect blame at the outset? Hmmm….)

pen in hand

THE DAY AFTER I HEARD about the football player who shot the mother of his child and then, in front of his coach and others, turned the gun on himself, I thought of his teammates.

“It’s hard to reconcile the teammate you knew and the tragic events that happened…,” one said in the story in the New York Times.

Yes, that’s the challenge.

The “perfect teammate,” another said. How could this happen? How did we miss it?

At times like this, our ability to trust others takes a hit, but that’s not all. Our ability to trust our own instincts also takes a beating.

We may never be able to trust anyone again, but even more, we’re not sure we can trust our own sense of where people are and what’s going on with them. And it’s this latter thing that may prove the most unsettling.

These are tough waters to navigate and it can take a long time.

But I digress…

* * *

HERE’S THE THING:
If any of those teammates could have him back for just one minute, what is the thing they would want to say to him? What is the thing they would want him to know?

Would it be “I love you, man. I don’t understand all that was going on with you, but I love you”?

Would it be “I am so angry at what you did. This was preventable. Why didn’t you tell one of us you were trouble?”?

Would it be….what?

Possibilities are endless. There is no right or wrong answer. Each person has his/her own thought-whirlwind. But if there was a chance to say something, what would it be?

Think.

In light of all that’s happened,
in light of what’s now known,
in light of the tremendous crime…
Where exactly am I with a brother’s sin?
Where exactly am I with my brother?

Given the chance, what is the thing I want him to know?

* * *

If there’s one thing I know about processing a grief, it’s that being able to express what you wish you could say to the person who’s now gone is a tremendously huge step in the healing process.

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