I’m listening to a new found singer songwriter.  Jeff Black.  Enjoying his rich deep voice.  I met him last night at a house party.  An invitation from a friend.  Some songs released a backlog of tears, others latent laughter.  I had a great time.  I’m glad I took my friend up on his invitation.  The alternative,  my usual Saturday night, to sit in my apartment and stare at my cats.  Nothing ever compares to live, but his passion comes through online allowing the same heart to heart connection. Last night it was the real thing, I received into my body what was drawn up from a deep place in his soul.  He said sharing his songs with us is a release for him.  He still gets so much out of it after all of his years as a musician.   His lyrics are filled with poetic passion.

I decided to write to music today.  To try to get my groove back.  The groove of the moment.  That place I’m searching for.  I see the clean white line of a jet stream as I look out my balcony door.   Into the sky, one of my favorite places.  A beautiful sea of blue with gentle wisps of white.  Jeff’s songs are slow and sad.  I’m looking for some joy this morning.  I have enough sadness to fill my days.  Jeff lifted me up last night.  I’m looking for that high again. But the sadness is still there.  Reminding me to keep my commitment to fully feeling what is present.  The cold air is allowed in, as well, through the open door.  I feel the call connect with it out there beyond my walls.  To move beyond the walls of my home.  These days the word home has a new meaning.  I can stuff it down day after day pretending it feels otherwise, but deep down I long for a more permanent residence, somewhere that I feel family and love.  Not lonely and on my own.  Jeff sings about home.  Another song to bring tears.  Where’s my family?  No one to wrap their arms around me, to hold me, to love me.  Separated from my only loves.  Separated by choice and by nature.  He said, “I’m worried this will be the beginning of the end.  I never wanted it to come to this.”  “Neither did I,” as the tears started to fall that fateful day when I finally said the words, “We’re moving without you.”  Now I’m alone.  My love which began in adolescence remains in the family home.   Our children, now young men, back to their original home on the weekends.  Sharing very little love while here in this new space.  Leaving my heart aching for that old connection.  The need to be needed.  My job as mother redefined.  No little boys to hold and hug, only these new young men needing to separate, needing their space, just as I had needed mine.  A song touching my heart on Jeff’s station,  Keb’ Mo’ “I’ll be your Water”.  I am drinking it in.  He’s singing to me.  A much needed friend in this moment.  Glancing out my window I see a sign of hope that turns my tears of sadness into tears of joy.  A rainbow, in the shape of a hot air balloon, a symbol of hope moving across the sky.  A desire to be up in the vessel and feel that freedom floating through my beloved sky.  The sun comes out cauterizing the hole in my heart and filling it with light.  I see my reflection in the computer screen.  I don’t want to see the person.  I spend too much time with her. There’s life outside my balcony door.  There’s an ocean calling me.  A true home for me somewhere in the distance.  I resist the call to move away from this city.  So many voices talk me out of it.  Voices of “reason.”  I know others have them too.  The voices that hold us back from following our true destiny.  Fear in letting go.  In trusting that small silent voice.   Jackson Brown takes his turn on stage.  He sings about a house.  He sings about my truth.   Time passing by and repeating the same old patterns. I’ve chosen to break out of the cage. I’ve upturned the table allowing the cards to fall in different places.  It’s painful to move into this new space.  A new physical place.  A new face.  There’s resistance.  I have brought new life into this world before.  Both times the pain was soon forgotten as I held the miracles in my arms.  I’m still waiting for the pain to subside.

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