One of my early morning perks is the ability to read and write in the quiet, but today as I wrote I got the urge to listen to the Album Night Song by Nusrat Fateh Khan and Michael Brook, and then I heard my favorite song on there, Lament, and it hit me that sometimes the quiet allows me to bring in things inside me that I cannot adequately express. The song reminded me of God, My Dad, Aunt, and in that moment I relived happy and sad moments, and my throat tightened up with grief and longing for them. And then I read the Artist’s Way, and in that morning quiet it hit me that only in these moments do I allow myself the luxury of thoughts and emotions that are the undercurrent of my daily life.
i use this time to process, to grieve, to learn, to create, and to really just be. Not caught up in to do tasks, or the next worry of the day, but a chance to just relive my past and be in gratitude, the good and the bad, the mistakes, the opportunities, the old friendships, the betrayals, the many people who, at one point, were so central in my life, but I have not spoken to now in years. And it hits me that this too shall pass.
Only in these moments do I realize that in the hurry to go from one thing to another, there is so much to learn, and be present for. It is a daily struggle to remind myself that this, this right here, this moment is all that I have as a guarantee. Each other moment a gift for me to either squander or to appreciate. Some moments I success, but a majority I fail, but instead of lamenting the losses, I sit in appreciation of being able to experience Nusrat at his finest, and I know, this moment, this real moment, I got right. And for now, that’s enough.