Can I Play the Piano in Heaven?

…and the jokey answer to that is Good, because I can’t play the piano now.

I love music. But I can’t play an instrument, can’t sing, can’t even really remember words to songs very well. I can be listening to someone play music and strain to remember the words, even if I know the song. The only time I sing is if I’m in the car by myself. Or in the house alone.




Yet even so, music can transport me to a glorious place:
a place where I can sing;
a place where kindness and mercy are attending;
a place where the wind sings alto;
a place where the rain and the sun
fall together;
a place both near and far
where the world has turned on its axis
and is the world we long for,
not the world we live in.
Yes, heaven.




Where is heaven?
It is the step through the air,
there but here,
the hand on the mirror but
through the looking glass.
Where the world is the same but better.
More glisten.
More light.
More calm.
More mercy.
The dimension beyond
where sometimes we can catch
a glimpse,
a shadow.

I was there this morning when the pianist played a piece so intricate, so graceful, that spontaneous applause burst out (in church!) when he was finished.

I was there the other evening when I put in my earbuds and listened to an updated video of the Beatles singing Let It Be.

I was there driving down the road earlier this week when the deep rhythmic bass of Celtic Worship’s bagpipes announced my favorite hymn, Jesus Paid It All. And yes, I sang along.

Musicians, artists, writers, storytellers — they remind us of the good; that we can be the force for good; that we are the force for good. Against ugliness, against unkindness, against authoritarian regimes who try to get us to believe untruths. They speak, sing, paint, write what is Real.

And here is Springsteen — showing and singing the crowd his version of heaven. I call it his This Is Happening Now speech. Watch him remind us that We the People are the force for good.

And after you watch that, watch this video of Bruce singing This Land Is Your Land.

We the people are a force for Good. For Democracy. Against authoritarianism. Against military parades that cost 45 million dollars when the government is ostensibly firing federal workers and agency budgets to cut waste. If you want to protest on June 14, the day of the parade, check out this Indivisible page. It will show you where protests are happening around the country. Coming to a place near where you live. Start making your music (and your signs) now. Whether you can sing or not.

Daily Gratitude: A Photo Journey

I’ve been taking photos and keeping them in a Gratitude folder. I’ve been trying to take one everyday, but honestly, some days it just doesn’t happen.

But then some days I manage more than one.

There are a lot of baked goods and a lot of cat photos and a lot of quotes—the cats make me laugh; the bakery items remind me that I’m serving my husband with love, and the quotes remind me that there is more to this life than what is happening right now.

Because what is happening right now is causing me lots of anxiety. I try not to doom scroll, but it’s so awful I can’t help it. It’s like trying to look away from a train wreck that is happening right in front of you.

There are also the obviously grateful photos— a baker is thankful for her new stand mixer, the extended warranty that was purchased on her stove, and the new Thrive food delivery service (which replaces Amazon and Whole Foods.)

Usually there are lots of nature photos in my folders, but nature hasn’t really been too cooperative lately.

Then there are small gifts from friends…

And there are my books…

There was also my winter fireplace mantle that started out being Christmas and gave me so much pleasure, I didn’t take it down until last week; and the two cats, who mostly pretend to hate each other but mostly make us laugh (except at 3 AM); and my faith, which helps to give me hope in these dark days.

I will leave you with three hopeful thoughts:

it is only 11 days until Spring begins,

people seem to be waking up to what is happening in this country,

and this lovely quote….

And yes, we need to remind ourselves every day what we are grateful for…

Glass

Windows are such a metaphor

for seeing clearly,

or not…

for looking out

or in —

the past,

the present,

all condense

in the mist

on the glass.
IMG_3687.PNG

and i’m grateful for the views from my windows…