I have never been the best spoken-word communicator. I was always a shy kid, retreating to the piano or other creative endeavors to really give voice to what I was feeling or thinking.
It is the same now. I have a hard time actually putting into words - aloud - everything I am feeling and how I am handing life at the moment. Combine that with the fact that K seems to be on my mind constantly, and I just have a wonderfully inept lack of conversational skills at the moment. Writing things down is a little different...there is a delete key, and the freedom of time.
Once again I am so very thankful that at least in theater, people GIVE me lines to say, so I don't have to worry about it - ha! My inner introvert smiles. And, as far as the rest of my time goes during the day, I can play very well the part of "executive assistant extraordinaire."
Last evening I had one of those aforementioned inept moments. I went to see an orchestra concert at my alma mater here, and it was a celebration of Ernest Bloch's music. Mr. Bloch had been the first director of said institution of higher learning, and his grandson and great-grandson came to bestow some treasures for the library and students.
The program was stunning. Absolutely stunning and moving. It has been a long time since I was able to sit in the audience of a 'classical' music concert and just . . . listen. And be moved. And take in the whole experience without forcibly silencing that part of my brain which constantly analyzes and critiques 'classical' performances. The first part of the program, "Baal Shem" - violin and piano in three parts: Contrition, Improvisation, Rejoicing - brought me to tears. It was a beautiful piece of live creation...something very special.
Right before the second half began, I was speaking to one of my favorite former professors, and we were talking about what I had learned from my time there in Grad School, and so forth. I knew what I wanted to say, but I wasn't forming any cohesive thoughts and suddenly I burst out - totally a non sequitor - about Katie and then I apologized and said, "I can't find my words about anything these days." As the lights dimmed for the second half of the program, my sage professor grabbed my hand and said, "Then stop talking. And listen to the music."
And that's what I did.
Bloch's Sacred Service is subtitled: A Sabbath morning service according to the Union Prayer Book for Cantor, mixed chorus and full orchestra:
Returning the Scroll to the Ark
The entire experience of listening to Sacred Service was impressive, to say the least. The text (all Biblical) was a reminder to me that I am not alone and that God will hear my calls of grief and questioning and anything else that comes up. I know of all this - but to have a whole concertized reminder is really something else.
On that day will the Lord be One and His name One.
And now ere we part, let us call to mind
those who have finished their earthly course
and have been gathered to the eternal home.
Though vanished from bodily sight,
they have not ceased to be, and it is well with them;
they abide in the shadow of the Most High.
Let those who mourn for them be comforted;
let them submit their aching hearts to God,
for he is just and wise and merciful in all his doings,
though no man, no man, can comprehend his ways.
In the divine order of nature, both life and death,
joy and sorrow, serve beneficent ends,
and in the fullness of time we shall know why we are tried
and why our love brings us sorrow as well as happiness.
Wait patiently, all ye that mourn, and be ye of good courage,
for surely your longing souls shall be satisfied. -Vaanachnu