I talked with a man that I didn’t know on the train today for 20 minutes. about music. He was telling me all about the Chicago musicians that play in the subway stations at Lake and Jackson and Clark/Lake, etc. “It’s really the pulse of the city”. He was so interesting and so interested in it all. We talked Bob Marley to Stevie Ray Vaughn to Lady Gaga. “You have to hear that girl out there sing Paparazzi! Ask her to sing it the next time you see her.” He named probably seven different musicians that play in the on the platforms across the city. “I’m a lyrics man” he said.
In the matter of one week I now know nothing for sure. I no longer know what is important to me or where i am in life. i’m not sure where to turn or which direction to step towards- because either direction results in a loss that is impossible for me to comprehend. how does one start over after 28 years of living. i’m not sure unconditional love exists within my family or elsewhere. life seems to be a series of tests and challenges, but this one has no solution. Everything that was good in my life is now teetering on the edge as if it’s going to fall away at any moment and i’m pretty sure it will. my world is crumbling and i can’t seem to do anything to stop it.
Hey guys! So I made these facebook event invites for all the shows on the Winter Wondertour. Two dates are being confirmed as we speak, but the rest are good to go. I would love for you to RSVP and invite your friends. Consider it!
Jillian read this to me yesterday. I like it. I’m not sure what to do with it exactly, but I though it was worth posting and it’s beautiful nonetheless.
The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.