Writing is a journey of discovery that takes me places that I never expected …
… a friend wrote to me today. And – in the way of such things – I have been taken thereby to places that I never expected, wondering all day about the extraordinary gift of languages in words, and in music, which can sometimes transport our words so exquisitely.
When I was first moved by Les Miserables in the 1990s I remember being sure in my mind that Marius’ grieving in Herbert Kretzmer’s Empty Chairs and Empty Tables was not for one revolution alone, but for every reflection and reconsideration of past, present and potential. A Universal Song.
Hearts are breaking all over the world for innumerable reasons today. Too many empty chairs and empty tables. I find myself awed by the purity of young Cormac Thompson’s rendition here – a clarity that carries an invitation to reflect straight to human hearts.
May our words be quiet, kind and clear; may our music sometimes be hope-filled silence – so that we really hear both, allowing ourselves to be reshaped, that we may the better transform our world. A quiet revolution. Thus may we be taken to unexpected, perhaps joy-filled and hopeful places.
wind in my wheels 🌱 
When a child sings, something echoes in my heart in a way that is difficult to explain…and your words remind me that we can never know who is hurt, where it hurts, how their hearts are in need of something that resembles solace. And it is only how we love each other, and find love in and around us, that we find the emotional sustenance to keep going and persevering and returning to life. xx
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Yes, Mimi. Sustenance, that’s the key isn’t it? – in all its many and varied forms … to keep going … 🤗🌱🙏xxx
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Writing through the mist of my tears. These words and the thoughts they conjure, this child’s crystalline voice, the sorrows we all grapple with in our own time and in our own ways. I agree with Mimi, finding ways to love…because of, in spite of, in search of, in hopes of…that is what sustains, ever and always. xxoo
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Thank heavens for words and music eh, Lori? And for those with whom we’re most able to communicate deeply.
Where would we be if we found ourselves permanently unable to communicate that there ARE griefs / joys ‘that can’t be spoken,’ thereby sharing experience of both?
And the treasures that exist among all that CAN be spoken are as food and drink and work and rest and play to us.
Hugs, Lori, hugs and thanks 🤗🙏xxx
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