I lay down on the floor to stretch, exhausted after exercising, my ear buds still in. I switch the music on my Ipod from early 70’s rock to something mellower. As I settle in to non-movement, I find my self swept away by the music. It is a Tallis piece, a Kyrie for five voices. I have not laid on the floor listening to music since I was a teenager. Perhaps it was the exercise music I had chosen this morning that transported me back to another time and place. I had forgotten, if I relax and be still, how the music can pick me up on wings and I can soar into lands above and beyond this realm. Each note, an angelic voice. Each, as if it were speaking directly to a part of my soul. Completely captivated, I am now the music. My other senses become engaged: Images of a motif of the Holy Spirit in the Basilica; the smell of a vanilla scented candle and the sweetness of rain as it drifts through an open window at night; my first guitar lesson, the scent of the polish, the feel of steel against rosewood, the sounding of G-C-E, my first chord.
I remove the ear buds and go outside onto the front porch to my favorite rocking chair. A warm spring rain begins to fall. The breeze quickens, there is a freshness to everything. I feel the beat of the rain on the sidewalk and notice I have adjusted my rocking to match the rhythm of the rain. The sounds of the expressway in the distance become like violins. A motorcycle driving by, a trumpet. Birds chatter like piccolos. A crow call punctuates the earthly song.
The crow warns of impending change, a shift in movement: the trees inch open their buds cautiously. The trees: silhouetted black against steel-gray clouds that airbrush the sky with increasing urgency. I close my eyes and smell green as long dormant flora burst forth out of their beds. A breath of air brings intoxicating yellows and purples, the spiciness of white – a cacophony of color in my mind.
I walk out into the rain. My body quivers as if touched by both water and fire. I feel the energy of the universe sink into my skin and rejuvenate me. It is spring, and all of nature has no choice but to respond in collaboration to the symphony of Life. Looking down into a puddle I see not just my reflection on water but something more, something greater than these separate parts. I see One – one image of line, color, and texture, inseparable. In this moment I have a place; I am Home, I Belong. There is no desire to be something Other.
I am at peace.
Why on earth did I choose, for so many years, to be dissident?