How does it get better than this?

I have been a writer for many, many years. I write a pretty consistent blog. I have self-published 3 fiction books, and had 3 book signings. I have read my work aloud; I have given it as gifts. I have enjoyed being a writer.

And all of that paled beside the joyous, even ecstatic, moment I had tonite, as a songwriter.

For tonite, in the middle of an interesting and energetic week, I walked into rehearsal for the Mile Hi Threshold Singers, and they greeted me with my song.

And it was so AWEsome. As in I am still full of Awe.

There have been moments of doubt. All writers have them, I expect. There are pieces I have posted, words I have published that I have since looked back on and thought, "What was I thinking?!"

There have also been pieces I have loved every time I reread them.

But the music.

I hear it a certain way in my head. And I know (well, I'm pretty sure) I have the right notes down on paper. But until the notes are sung by multiple voices (cuz, you know, 3 part harmony) I can't be absolutely sure I have really translated it really correctly.

And through the process of teaching the music, and people getting used to the harmonies and the words and the timing that seemed so clear, so necessary, to me; through the repetition and the introvertedness that makes leading a song a challenging experience; through trying to sing and connect and direct at the same time; I thought... well, there's something just not right with the song. Because I have chills when we sing "May Peace be With You." And I get tears in my eyes when we sing "Equanimity." And I could get lost in "Standing Stone." And I'm just not feeling that...

But today.

Oh today.

I was late to the rehearsal. We all knew I was going to be late because of a family event. So when I walked in the door and was greeted with "Lila!" I just grinned, and turned to shut the door.

And then they sang my song.
 As I wrote it.
 As a welcome.
 As a gift.

And I had chills. And I had tears. I wanted to dive into the middle of the circle and be wrapped in the music.  And I was so full of joy and delight, I probably jumped up and down and clapped my hands.

And I know I'm not really expressing how marvelous, how transcendent, the experience was (I am tearing up just thinking about it.) I probably need another song.

Happiness is being a song writer, because a song, oh a song is a gift that gives right back. Three fold.

So today I am grateful. To me for writing the song. To the choir for giving it back to me in beauty. To you, for witnessing this amazing day.

How does it get better than this? I am so looking forward to finding out!

"Thank you for the song. Thank you for the voices. Thank you for the love which carried me home." (from Welcome to the Song, by...

Lila (Songwriter!)

A Song in the Darkness

Today, friends and I talked about "Being Strong Enough."

That's not how we phrased it, of course, but it's the painful meaning that comes through the words. Because there is this underlying belief - and, if you're like us, you probably feel it too - that "I should" be able to handle this, or that. That "I should" be able to overcome this pain and that self-doubt. That "I should" be strong minded enough to conquer the depression, strong hearted enough to quit thinking of my issues, strong willed enough to manifest a perfect life for my family.

Oh yeah, and for myself.

And when the muscles of will and mind and heart break down under that constant burden of should, what do we do and where do we turn? Because, yeah, we can tell each other to find someone to talk to, to look into medication, to get "me time;" and we may promise each other we will do those important things. But when we're alone...

When I'm alone, in the darkest hour of the night, and I feel like I can hear all the thoughts of all the people and maybe I'm not sleeping but at least it's not the next day yet, please don't let it be tomorrow yet because this day is done and I don't want to face another, and I just can't do it alone, but I can't make myself reach for that hand because I don't even know WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!!! and it's too dark to see the hand anyway and why should they care because I'm not strong enough and I've failed...

When I am alone and I allow the thoughts to over run me, when I am too tired to fight anymore and I am "weak" enough to hear all of my fears and anxieties - not even admit them or fix them, just hear them -  I reach the eye of the storm.

And in that stillness, first I hear my heart beat.

Sometimes it's a disappointing sound, because I know the sun will shine again and I'll walk through another day.

And sometimes it's a triumphant sound. Because I KNOW the sun will shine again and I WILL walk through another day.

And sometimes, the best times, it's just a sound. A beat. And a measure of breath.

And my breathing is actually a sigh timed to the drum beat. Beat. And sigh. And beat. And sigh.

And the deeper I breathe, the deeper the beat feels, until it touches my blood. Which is a flowing whoosh. 

A beat. A sigh. A whoosh. So peaceful. So absorbing. Beat. Sigh Whoosh. Sigh. Beat. Beat. Whoosh.

Such a perfect harmony to the hum of the neurons.

Hum. Whoosh. Sigh. Beat.

Beat.

A beat that is so deep, so full, so profound it can't be my heart. It can't be simply my heart. It's so much bigger than my heart.

An Infinite heart, beating in time with mine.

A Compassionate breath, sighing along with mine.

A Nourishing blood, whooshing around with mine.

An Accepting neuron, humming along with mine.

Sparkling, dancing neurons, like stars in the firmament. The vast, Omnipresent firmament. So deep, so encompassing, so full of every moment and every being and every thought.

So Nourishing and Compassionate and Infinite. And strong.

Hear that heart beat, beat. So strongly. Wrapped around me. Connected to me.

To which I am connected.

Of which I am a part.

Which means I am not alone.

Which means I don't have to be strong enough to do it alone.

To fix it alone.

To bear it.

Because my heart does not beat alone. It is only one part of the rythym section. My breath does not sigh alone; it is in a chorus. And my blood whooshes with others, shivering strings on a harp. And my neurons, oh my neurons hum in melody with a godzillion other stars.

All the strength I need is the strength to hear my heart beat.

I hope you can hear the song.

-Lila

A Morning Song

(inspired by Tweet from @TanyaHuff)

Countin' dead frogs on the side of the road @ 7 o'clock in the morning.

The tarmac is crunching under my sneakers, the passing cars honk out a warning.

or is it a greeting they're tooting at me, as we share this moment in time.

The cool, crisp air: falling leaves, blowing hair;

Are the frog bodies a sign?

Oh, the year of the frog.

we change as we grow, or we die

Oh, the year of the frog.

On strong legs we leap for the sky

some may see us as slimy

some classify us as spry

we hail each other as beautiful, wondrous.

I think I just ate a fly.

I hope you have a great day!

-Lila