I woke up singing, "Mother Mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom...
'LET IT BE'"
This imagery continued as I chose a tee shirt to wear.
Likely reasons for these choices: For some months now, I've been in a place where I'm being invited to let go of old, habitual patterns of thinking and behaving...and, as a result, have been experiencing a lot of ANXIETY...Music has provided some therapeutic relief...
After my morning centering prayer sit, I checked my phone for messages and began with a Baha'i friend Jeanette's weekly Sunday blessings text:
Each week, some part of these messages speaks to me.
For starters, today's calls my attention to the fact that someone else is thinking of me...I'm not one of the "lonely people" we hear about in "Eleanor Rigby."
NEXT, I woke up AND didn't fall out of bed AND still had some hair so I could drag a comb across my head...
"God"...my personal understanding of and, more importantly, EXPERIENCE of what this oft-used word means has been undergoing significant transformation. To convey a sense of the Great Mystery, I choose to use a convention I first learned from my Jewish sisters and brothers - I place a hyphen "-" between the "G" and the "d"...G-d...
Considering it's Mother's Day...
...one of these changes is my growing appreciation of G-d's femininity...
"Worshiping at home" - I am thankful that I can worship anywhere because...my "church" has feet:
This one's for all my inked friends:
And the rest of today's message from Jeanette is about being thankful...
More here:
HERS & HYMNS
In keeping with our theme, I wanted to find a version of their song sung by a woman and my intention was rewarded with this great cover...
FIRST READING
[From the opening to this article] My feet shuffle across the floor as I reluctantly lumber toward my prayer chair. A new day has dawned, but I am not motivated to do my morning devotions. I collapse in my seat and look doubtfully at my journal, Bible and prayer book. “God, I don’t want to do any of this today. I just want to curl up here and rest a bit.”
I tense for the old guilt-laden demand that “this is what a good Christian does in the morning.” It never comes. Instead, I sense God’s arms wrapping around me. I hear a gentle invitation to lay down my weary head. In my mind’s eye, I imagine God patting my hair like a mother comforts an overwrought child.
[Continue reading at the above link]
These red-letter words reminded me of some song lyrics I had heard before BUT led me instead to a DYLAN tune that I had not previously heard. I believe that I was led here through the musical inspiration of Norman Dee (photo below) - a master flutist who played for us at last evening's Community ArtShare event at the Baha'i Center in Valley Stream, NY. As part of his musical presentation, he shared with us a lot of the pieces' historical and classical references.
In our discussion after Norman's musical offerings, I had incorrectly cited the authorship of this quote to another wonderful mystical poet RUMI.
A READING FROM THE PROPHET BOB...
With these power-filled words, Bob helps us see how music can support us...cradle us...especially needed "in times of trouble..."
"'neath the strength of strings..."
Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum Struck by the sounds before the sun I knew the night had gone The morning breeze like a bugle blew Against the drum of dawn Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum The ocean wild like an organ played The seaweed wove its strands The crashing waves like cymbals clashed Against the rocks and the sand Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum I stood unwound beneath the skies And clouds unbound by laws The crying rain like a trumpet sang And asked for no applause Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum The last of leaves fell from the trees And clung to a new love's breast The branches bare like a banjo moan To the winds that listen the best I gazed down in the river's mirror And watched its winding strum The water smooth ran like a hymn And like a harp did hum Lay down your weary tune, lay down Lay down the song you strum And rest yourself 'neath the strength of strings No voice can hope to hum
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