Recharging the Spirit

Been sitting here sifting through what I've actually written (on the computer) thus far this year. Nearly finished compiling the list. If you're interested, I'm up to fifteen separate pieces, but only around 6,000-words. I've been writing in short bursts. Poetry. Posts. Things like that.

I had Playlist going and along comes a song I haven't heard in a long time. Amazing Grace. This was an instrumental, done with bag pipes. This song, perhaps more than any other I have ever heard in my life, speaks to me.

This is what I got from Wikpedia: ""Amazing Grace" is a Christian hymn written by English poet and clergyman John Newton (1725–1807) and published in 1779."

Newton had been a slave trader.

Generally, I prefer the song in bag pipes, with perhaps an orchestra background. But there are lyrics, and it is the lyrics which make the haunting bag pipe sound so real. If you do not know them, here they are:

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

At various time in my life I have become quite "full of myself", and ultimately something will occur to bring me back down to reality. This song is one of those things which can do it very quickly. When I hear the music I think of the lyrics. And the lyrics remind me to consider myself in comparison with the beauty of others, and the idea. I do not measure up well to either. And I am gratefully humbled.

When I was younger I didn't particularly care to think of others as better at anything. Not acts of physical ability, and certainly not in intelligence. I knew I wasn't beautiful, but I liked to believe I was. (This is why I do not keep mirrors about my place.)

I am older now. To children, I am practically ancient. To retirees I am still a "kid". No matter. One thing I have learned in my years is that I don't have to be "the best" anymore. It's enough to be who I am - and that is a learning process only recently begun.

Many, I suppose, look at the lyrics of Amazing Grace and see depression and self-abasement. That is certainly there, but it isn't what draws me. What draws me is the forgiveness. The love. I am fast discovering that that is all that matters to me anymore. To be forgiven - by God and by people - for the mistakes I make, which are many. To be loved - by God and by people - for just being who I am, even while I am still learning myself who that is.

It is a beautiful song and it always makes me cry. At least on the inside, if I manage to keep my tears in check.

The song tells me there is a future. And I should embrace it. It's like - coming home after a long and disastrous journey and finding open arms accepting me back. Everything is going to be all right. That's what's amazing. It is.

I hope you are having a good day.

Here is a YouTube link to Judy Collins singing Amazing Grace with a background choir. Probably the only acapella song I can honestly say reaches me.

I Am Musical - With a few Sour Notes

Supposed to talk about God and/or religion today, but instead I am going to return to nostalgia. Going to talk about being in choir during my school years. This wasn't church choir, although the choir director was a Christian and often inserted religious pieces for us to sing. That was allowed in the 1960s and early 70s. But the types of music we sang are irrelevant, for the most part, to my memories. Although I must say we (the senior high choir) did an excellent job of singing William Billings' Kittery.

I've always liked music. From this pumpkin song I recall from first grade:

I had a little pumpkin,
I gave it two big eyes.
I cut a round and tiny nose
and a great big mouth that smiles.
Now I hide behind a bush and
wait until it's dark.
Then when someone comes along
UP I JUMP!
BOO I SHOUT!
What a surprise!

to this cute ditty, also from first grade, (taken from this site)



to country music, folk music, rhythm and blues, rock 'n roll, to songs I hear on the radio now.

I've never been a great singer. Got a voice like beef jerkey. Remember the commercial? Either you love it or you hate it. Most seem to fall into the latter category, but I remember a few (with fondness) who would sit and listen with rapture while I sang. (Or maybe they were just hoping for the rapture while I sang.)

When I was in sixth grade the high school choir director made the rounds to the three elementary schools which filtered up into the junior high. Our district wasn't the smallest, but our high school had grades seven through twelve and less than 900 students. Anyway, the director listened to each student sing and then left. What we (the students) didn't know was he was auditioning us for choir. When I started seventh grade, choir was not on my schedule. I was in General Music, which meant no singing. In fact, there wasn't any music at all. Just theory. Learning notes and whats and whys. None of the students in General Music liked music at all.

However, despite not being picked for choir, my hopes were not completely dashed. During the first day of General Music class the choir director (who taught the class) asked if there was anyone who wished to audition again to be in choir. I and three others did. From that second audition I was moved from General Music, which met three times a week, to Choir, which met every day. But in Choir I got to sing; much to my joy and a couple others' distress.

My first concert was memorable, and it was remembered all the days of my tenure at that school. In fact, I'd be willing to wager that if you brought my name up to anyone who was in the choir that night they would say, "Oh, yeah. Bevie James. I remember Bevie James." It wasn't exactly something I was proud of.

You see, I had never been in front of a real audience before. We stood on risers under a choir shell. There were lights. It was hot. The gymnasium was stuffy. We had to wear dress-up clothes instead of something comfortable. I stood with my knees locked. The choir director stopped the concert just before I tumbled over and had me sit. Five years later, as the choir was preparing for the final concert which would include my class, the same choir director gave out final instructions. When he finished, Chlo W turned around and said in a vicious voice, "And don't faint!"

It wasn't all bad, though. My voice, while not being a favorite of just everyone, did improve enough that I got to solo in a song (my first effort resulted in a room full of laughing people - including the choir director), and even sing a few solos without the rest of the choir. I sang Elton John's, Your Song, over the local radio station. But the one I was singing it to refused to listen to it.

There were statewide music contest for choir members back then. The choir director signed me up in my last three years of school. His new assistant liked my voice. she even played the piano for me when I sang over the radio. I never won. Did get a Thanks For Showing Up and Wasting Our Time award. Twice!

I like music, and I like to sing, despite the opinion of others. It's kind of like that with my writing, too. Not everyone likes what I write, or how I write it. But others do. And so my voice continues - for now. One day I expect it will go silent, both as a writer and as a singer. Until that day I shall continue to do both. Maybe one day I'll dare record myself and post it for you to give the thumbs up or down to. We'll see. I'm not exactly a courageous person.

An Expression From the Past

Stephen receives a lot of exposure on this blog. He gets honorable mentions on a couple of other blogs, too. Daddy is another. It is entirely right and proper that I should do so, I think. They are both gone and I love them both dearly.

I have referenced my new friends more than once here, too, confessing my love for them.

Today, despite it being Animals and Nature Day on A Voice in the Wind, I will confess my love for Spouse. Included with that is Son, for he came from us, at least in part. His spirit comes from God, but the shell it lives in came from us, as well as a few personality quirks, good and bad.

Spouse isn't too keen on frequent mentions on-line. Not keen about Son being mentioned, either. Anything to hide their identity. But I can hardly post without referencing one and/or the other at least sometimes. And because this blogging thing has turned from a selfish display of words to myself into a selfish interactive with others, things slip, and I find myself compelled to reveal more to friends than I did to an empty and impersonal cyberspace. (Hence the addition of gender on my profile.) Spouse is mostly fine with this. I have friends again. It's been a few years.

Anyway, I have been listening to this particular song several times a day for the past five days. It's one of about a dozen I'm replaying over and over again. All take me back at least two decades in time. Some as far back as 1969. Some make me cry. Some make me feel hopeful. Others remind me of Stephen, being young, foolish, and without any cares. This song, also linked at the bottom of the blog, brings me back to the early 1980s. We (Spouse and I) were still in our twenties. We were both thin then (now it's just Spouse). And healthy. And hopeful. And poor. We both worked at the same place (which is how we met). As I drove us to and from work we would listen to radio stations (I'm a station turner). When this song would come on I would sing it. It's been more than twenty years since I remember hearing it last. Stumbled across it the other day. I can still sing it. Just not as well.

The song is important to me because I have watched what has happened to many other families - just in this neighborhood - in which the husband has lost work and can't get/keep another job to replace the one lost. In nearly every other case the wife has taken the children and left. Spouse did not do that. Not even when we lost the house.

It's no fun being undeserving. But it is comforting to be loved. And so my friends, not to take anything away from the love I bear for you, and you know I love you, this expression of love is for Spouse, though she will not read it. If you wish to listen to it, I have a YouTube link at the bottom of the blog. (Today, anyway. That will change at some point in the future.)

Longer, by Dan Fogelberg

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
I've been in love with you.

Stronger than any mountain cathedral
Truer than any tree ever grew
Deeper than any forest primeval
I am in love with you.

I'll bring fires in the winters
You'll send showers in the springs
We'll fly through the falls and summers
With love on our wings.

Through the years as the fire starts to mellow
Burning lines in the book of our lives
Though the binding cracks and the pages start to yellow
I'll be in love with you.
I'll be in love with you.

Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens
Ive been in love with you
I am in love with you..

For better and for worse. In sickness and in health. Wasn't sure I believed it at the time. Now, coming up on 30 years later, time has shown the truth.

Eres Tu

Eres Tu, by Mocedades, is playing on YouTube right now. I haven't thought of that song in a while. It's hauntingly beautiful. It's a good muse song. I've written some good prose while listening to it. I have no idea what the lyrics mean beyond "it is you", or something to that effect. For all I know they're singing about wearing clean underwear in case of being hit by a bus and being brought to the hospital. The sound and spirit, however, are beyond anything I can describe. I love this song.