Friday, October 12, 2007

Dear God,

Row J, seat 208. Dvorak. Ravel. Elgar.

Perhaps it was my state of mind. Or my trouping through Parke County booths all day. Or my date with my husband. Maybe it was the night air or the Italian food.

My pores, all my pores were open to the sweet music. It had been years since I had been to the symphony, way too many years. I'm usually too tired on Friday nights. And Saturday nights are out.

I had outbid my competition at the Mission Event. I won the two tickets to the symphony. I was anxious to take my husband for a night out, just the two of us. I wanted to hear the sweet sounds of the oboe, violin, flute, horns, percussion, all the instruments singing together.

I read through the program, taking in the commentary on the composers and their own words about their compositions. I took in the strangeness of thought as they grappled with instrument, sound, time and space. I listened to their voices of long ago as they brought music to the page and to the world. I was ready.

When the lights lowered, I was poised for beauty, a sacred gift, music from the heavens. And I was not disappointed. I closed my eyes, not wanting to be distracted by the movement of the conductor, other patrons. I wanted the music to waft its way into my soul. I climbed into the darkness, allowing the light of the music to follow me. My whole body listened, permitting tears to form while my spirit filled. Sweet music to the soul. Sweet, sweet music.

I can only imagine the first sweet sound of music ever heard. A mystical sound from paradise. And what is paradise but the home of God?

It was so appropriate to celebrate afterwards with cake and champagne, gifts from Maestro Leppard's 80th birthday. I ate every morsel and drank 1/3 of my glass. I didn't think I had any open space left in me.

We held hands as we walked to the car, the tiny white tree lights sparkling on the circle. The music still swirling in my head.

You are God
from everlasting
to everlasting.
The sweet sounds
of your voice
still echo
in my head.
Dvorak.
Ravel.
Elgar.
Leppard.
Gratitude
and
joy!

Love, Andrea