The soft voice in my head has guided me for years:
Love people
Make them laugh
Sing
So far, my singing has been at open mic sessions at Salvatore’s and Minard. Now it’s time for a broader horizon.
I want to sing in the open air. The Langemunt is a shopping street nearby … lots of cool shops. Months ago I bought new glasses at Eyes + More. Yesterday, when I mentioned to Virginie, the store’s manager, that I want to sing beautiful songs outside Lloyd Coffee Eatery, she said “Sing here. Right outside our door.”
Woh! An invitation. I feel stars aligning.
Armed with bright eyes, I set off to Van de Moer Instruments, where I’d bought a keyboard years ago. I told my story to Dirk, and he recommended the amplifier you see in the picture. And a good microphone. And a mic stand with a boom arm, to accommodate future cello accompaniment!
Eyes wider …
I don’t have the money right now to make this happen, but May 15 starts a new MasterCard monthly cycle. I wouldn’t have to come up with the money till July 4!
Be practical, Bruce. Don’t do anything rash
Yeah, right
In the spirit of moderation, I phoned Stad Gent (the municipal government) to see what flavour of bureaucracy might rear its lovely head …
No license needed … (check)
Be at least ten metres from a restaurant terrace … (check)
Be at least fifty metres from another street performer … (check)
Between 10:00 and 21:00 … (check)
No microphone and amplifier … (not check!)
The idea is that you don’t disturb people who live on the street. Okay, I get that.
However, I decided to do an experiment yesterday. I stood outside Eyes + More as shoppers flowed past, many of them deep in conversation. I started singing. And I could barely hear myself, much less anyone else clueing into what I was doing.
I’ve seen many street performers on the Langemunt. I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever seen one without a microphone.
So … what does all this mean?
I’ll pay for the equipment on May 15
It should arrive in the store by May 22
By the end of May, I’ll share about twenty* amplified songs outside Eyes + More
And if the police lock me up, I’ve heard that the food is really good in jail!
My friend Kobe says that he wants to write a book about me.
!
He says it’s a way for me to live on after I die.
How should I react? What should I conclude?
Perhaps I should let go of any meaning and just allow his gracious request to wash over me. “Thank you” feels right.
I’ve had oodles of chapters in this life of mine. So many human beings have come … and most of them have gone. I sense that I’ve made a difference with many souls, but I don’t know.
It could be that many students say to their friends “Do you remember Mr. Kerr? He was a good guy.” And maybe not.
I have countless stories to tell if Kobe is willing to listen. I think they’re interesting, but I’m biased. You might see things differently.
I wonder what I would title the book if I wrote an autobiography. Hmm. I’ll go with what just came …
I started writing Bruce’s Blog on June 20, 2014 … the day after I retired from teaching. I write on WordPress (or Jetpack). A few years after I began, I started transferring my words to Facebook.
Today is my 2500th post
Yay!
I just did the math. That’s more than one post every two days.
***
I’m proud of myself. Every paragraph over the twelve years has been a part of me thrown out into the world. And I’ve never had the thought “Today I’ll write something that will be popular. I’ll get lots of Likes!”
I write for you, to hopefully touch your life, open your eyes a bit wider, and make you smile. Only rarely do I write for me, in the times when woe is me, and tapping out words is my therapy.
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
(from “The Summer Day” by Mary Oliver)
1. Write
This blog, most every day. Maybe two hundred words … about people and things and moments that touch me. (And tomorrow is a very big day for this!)
2. Memorize the Lyrics of Beautiful Songs
It’s hard work for me, and happy work. My olderbrain appreciates the stimulation. And therefore I shall live to 104.
3. Sing
At open mic sessions – Salvatore’s and Minard. And in the future … on the street. Hopefully on the Langemunt or nearby. A microphone, a speaker, no basket, and me. Songs that move.
4. Play Cello
Fine melodies, played slowly. All the time in the world. “Imagine” as an instrumental. The final note drifting off in the air.
5. Strength Training on Weight Machines and Cardiovascular on the Cross-Trainer
Staying strong … so I can keep climbing the fifty steps to my apartment till I’m ninety. I also want to develop the perfect U-shaped body.
6. Doing the Mutual Awakening Practice at Meetings of the Evolutionary Collective
True connection with other members of the human race, one at a time. The ego fading away. Time disappearing. All is well.
7. Meditating
Most every day, in my sweet meditation chair.
Showing me a path to quiet, to soft, to still.
8. One-to-one Conversations
What’s important in our lives, what’s real, what opens our hearts.
I sang two songs last night at Salvatore’s – Chris de Burgh’s “The Snows of New York” and Bob Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall”. I’m smiling as I remember.
And now … What’s next?
A few days ago, I included these lines at the end of a post:
I have seen the morning burnin’ golden on the mountain in the sky Achin’ with the feeling of the freedom of an eagle when she flies
Yesterday, I went back to visit. “Those words are poetry.” And I’m ready to have such a melody emerge from my mouth.
Loving Her Was Easier … a love song written by Kris Kristofferson. And a nod yes. After all, who could resist these musings? Not me.
Healin’ as the colors in the sunlight and the shadows of her eyes
Or …
Wakin’ in the morning to the feeling of her fingers on my skin Wipin’ off the traces of the people and the places that I’ve been
Or …
I don’t know the answer to the easy way She opened every door in my mind But dreamin’ was as easy as believin’ it was never gonna end And loving her was easier than anything I’ll ever do again
I’m a nice person. I care about other people. I put myself in their place and see what’s there.
But there’s something bigger than a human being going on here …
I have a problem in the everyday world, and I don’t have the knowledge to solve it. So I approached an organization that can help. I made an appointment. I showed up.
I was greeted by a young woman wearing a hijab, and invited into her office.
I don’t care that she’s Muslim and from a culture different than mine. I expect to have a pleasant conversation that will lead to a solution.
However …
Thoughts began seeping in that seemed very old, from even before my birth:
She will be passive, not active
She will be submissive, not assertive
She will not have a sharp focus on my problem
Huh?
Where is this coming from?
I don’t do stereotypes!
And yet … here I am doing stereotypes
***
I’ll call my coach “Malika”. She was active, assertive and focused. She listened, analyzed and created a plan. I’ll be sending her more information. She’ll create a letter which will become a registered letter – one that the recipient has to sign for. The powers-that-be will have to engage in problem-solving.
Thank you, Malika. I will keep my eyes open in your presence. I will see you.
Do I feel guilty about the intruding thoughts? > No
Will I stay alert to the seductive impact of my culture’s history? > Yes
Khalil Gibran lived for 48 years. I 77 and counting. He really lived! Me too.
Here’s a poem. May it open something inside you.
A Tear and a Smile
I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart For the joys of the multitude And I would not have the tears that sadness makes To flow from my every part turn into laughter I would that my life remain a tear and a smile
A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding Of life’s secrets and hidden things A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods
A tear to unite me with those of broken heart A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence
I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live weary and despairing
I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the Depths of my spirit, for I have seen those who are Satisfied the most wretched of people I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody
With evening’s coming the flower folds her petals And sleeps, embracing her longing At morning’s approach she opens her lips to meet The sun’s kiss
The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment A tear and a smile
The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come Together and are a cloud
And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to return to the sea, its home
The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting A tear and a smile
And so does the spirit become separated from The greater spirit to move in the world of matter And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death And return whence it came
To the ocean of Love and Beauty – to God
***
It’s not about me. My “insightful” analysis of another person’s words. The question is whether Khalil enters me … whether I allow him to.
If I say No, it makes me wonder about all the other flavours of life that come my way, ones that I also turn away from. Is it merely an island that I am … or are there bridges in the mist?
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