The infinite between two souls......

Her manicured nails tapped the edge of her wheelchair and her white tennis shoes kept time on the floor, her legs dangling over the edge of the metal footrests underneath her. She sang  every word of the lyrics along with the performer, a smile playing across her face, and her husband soon joined her. Her health was obviously not good, but here she was with the rest of us being transported to whatever place we each went to as this particular tune was performed.

The rest of the room that night, like most Wednesday nights when we all convened in this bar, was a patchwork of characters. There were cowboy boots and very large hats sitting (or dancing) next to heavily starched shirts with little alligators wandering across the front. An entire family took up a long table near the back, kids ranging from about 8 to young adults, sitting with mom and dad....oh, wait, there's grandma, too. Not everyone knew that the Mom of that family had begun chemo a few weeks ago, but here they all were, strengthening one another by banding together to forget all of that for a few hours.

The singer belted out country music and then switched to Fleetwood Mac, only to turn the mic over to a friend who sang some goosebumping gospel. The music rightly took center stage until a newcomer stepped through doorway aross the room. Greetings were called out to welcome old friends.....which turns out to be anyone who showed up once before and decided to come back. Kind of like Cheers, for those of you old enough to relate. "Norm!"

During the week, this group of folks probably would never have come into contact with one another. I don't generally hang around with used car salesmen, realtors, shrimp boat operators, firemen, or retired masons. Roofers, life coaches, teachers.....maybe even a writer or two.

But music has the ability to draw us together, doesn't it? The wheelchair-bound woman and I might be near the same age, it's hard to tell. And even though our backgrounds are obviously different, when that particular song weaves its way around us, we come together to ride the music. We are literally lifted away from this place to a lyrical place that exists for both of us....if even for a few beats of time.

“Music fills the infinite between two souls.”

Rabindranath Tagore

Just listen.......

Getting older takes a lot away from us every day. 

Like our keys. Or errant cell phones.

And that word that slips around the corner of our memory banks just when we think we're on the verge of nailing it down, only to have it slither away again.

There are so many things that we can't do (or find) like we used to in "the olden days."  At least our kids don't have to walk to school in the snow like we did, right?

But age gives us things, too.

Like perspective. If nothing else, we have learned that life is complicated and messy. And there is little that we encounter that can be put neatly into a box with a label that never changes. 

Like speaking other languages here in America.

Someone said to me recently that they were offended by a young Latina singer always singing in Spanish. (Go figure.) After all, this person went on to say, isn't this America? Why can't she sing those lyrics in English so we can understand them?

Wow....this could take us into discussions about all kinds of heavy issues, right? Including the one about those outsourced customer service positions being held by young men and women in lands far away who are, well, less than proficient in the language of their customers. And the one about "foreigners" taking American jobs away, even if Americans don't really want them.

Well, it could, but that's not my destination right now. I think that's really a different point, anyway. And those issues are complicated and messy and serious, I grant.

I'm going to a much simpler place here today. I'm talking about music and diversity and knowing how to speak to one another, how to hear one another, even without a common language.

I don't need to know the translation of that Latina's words to "hear" her soul, the one she is pouring out through my radio or IPod or computer screen. I understand her perfectly without cutting and pasting the Spanish lyrics and having my software translate them into English. I routinely listen to another young artist sing arias in Italian, and I don't know a word of that language, either. But the emotion he is bleeding all over the airwaves raises the hair on my arms and brings tears to my eyes just the same. 

A young woman on a social networking site that I am addicted to--yes, THAT one--has introduced me to many new forms of music, most performed in languages I know nothing about. Arabic. Croatian. Portuguese. I am mesmerized. (If you can't find me, this is a hint on where to look. I WILL respond if you IM me.)  And I am grateful to have my perspective of life stretched in this way.

I speak only English, in spite of seven years of French instruction back in the dark ages of my high school and college career. Yes, I am a natural born American who has lived here all my life. But I am not offended by merely hearing another language spoken--or sung--in my presence. In fact, I cherish it, I cherish all of them. They add texture, and color, and brilliance to my perspective of life, every one of them. 

People are more alike than they are different, no matter what language they speak. Or sing. And our hearts have the capability of hearing each other just fine.

All we have to do is listen.

"......words have no meaning - people have meaning."

Larry Baker

Lions and bees....oh my!

Lazy Lion sounded pretty good, actually. And Buzzing Bees....well, I excelled on that one! My fingers followed the teacher's instructions without too much trouble, and she said I exercised good pressure for a first timer.

Today was the July episode of my "doing something I've never done before" adventure. I did something I had often wondered about, but never had the opportunity to try. I took a piano lesson.

In elementary school, a man showed up in my classroom once with an assortment of instruments, and I fell in love with the violin. It was glossy and sleek and elegant to my 10 year old eyes. I don't remember why I never took lessons, considering how enamored I was with that beautiful piece of wood, but I guess that was my one opportunity. Such a thing never came up again.

I found a piano teacher by sending out a call to all my Facebook friends, and today was the day. She already knew about my year-long adventure and was willing to give me one lesson. She was gracious and patient with me, an adult with absolutely no knowledge of music other than I love it. She dug out a child's beginner book, a little hesitantly I noticed, thinking I might be offended. I quickly disavowed her of that concern. I may be a lot of things, but I know what I don't know. A kid's book is exactly where I needed to be.

We discussed terms I had never heard before, like steps with skips, traids, and solfeige. She showed me that my fingers are numbered and where to start on the keyboard. I never knew the difference between black keys and white ones, but I do now. I played Lazy Lion on the black keys once I got the finger-numbering system down. Then the two of us played an improvised tune, she on one side of the keyboard and me on the other. Just striking a succession of keys.....and it sounded pretty good!

She was intrigued with my struggles to learn ballroom dancing, things like hearing the beat and coordination (or my lack thereof). There seems to be some correlation that hadn't occured to me before. Interesting, all of it.

I have learned a great deal from this adventure, doing something each month for a year that I've never done before. Much more than I ever anticpated. I have done things that turned out to be one-time events, and I also discovered a passion in April that I never expected, one that I hope to continue forever.  I am so grateful that I have undertaken this mission, as I have discovered corners of my soul I never knew existed. And today, to feel music begin in my fingers and then wrap itself around me was a wondrous happening.

Even if it was only Lazy Lion and Buzzing Bees.

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.  ~Berthold Auerbach

Visit Martha McKie's website at http://pianolessonsmandarin.com/ to learn about piano lessons.